Lachrimae
by Muffy Morrigan
Summary: Dean is dying after an attack by an unknown assailant. While Sam desperately searches for a cure for his dying brother, Dean makes plans of his own. Plans that might get him out of a one way trip to hell. HURT!DEAN Angsty Sam Not Death Fic.
1. Hark! You Shadows That In Darkness Dwell

_A/N: This is the other promised holiday story, although not holiday in content, I nonetheless offer it as a Twelfth Night gift. This is the sequel to _Waxing and Waning_. You don't have to have read that story to understand this one. You do need to know that, in that story, Dean was wounded with a magical weapon, cured, mostly by a witch, but the scar from the wound remained and needed daily "treatment" to control. Story title and chapter titles are from John Dowland's _Lachrimae (Flow, my tears).

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter One**

**Hark! You Shadows That In Darkness Dwell**

_Routine hunt. They never are, are they? Always something. Never easy, and just getting harder every damn time. _It was cold in the orchard, a clammy winter cold that soaked through the clothes like they weren't even there. _I remember it was once described as a lazy cold, too lazy to bypass the clothes, but just soaked through instead. Of course, the blood makes it a little colder._

The wind was rustling through the bare branches in the apple orchard, the gnarled trunks and twisted branches decorating the land like leftover Halloween items. The thing was waiting, watching from on top of the ancient wall Dean had his back braced against. It was waiting for something, he wasn't sure of what, but it was waiting.

_Nice to know, friendly like. Rip me open, take my charm and leave me here while it watches, probably having coffee or something like that. Where is Sam?_He sighed. _Routine hunt, yep._

**Two Days Before**

Early winter cast a gray hand over the small town. The land surrounding the town, orchards and farms for the most part, were settled in, fallow, for the cold season, the remnants of crops brown-black on the ground, a rich smell of fermenting fruit floating on the cold misty breeze. They had been asked to come, to seek out a spirit, angry as always, that was regularly hanging people in an apple orchard to the south of town. Just a routine hunt, nothing special, in and out, Sam said the night they got the call. So, they headed into town and, arriving late, settled in for a comfortable night at the motel.

"Nice place, Sammy," Dean said, coming into the room. _And it actually is, clean, neat, doesn't smell weird, and not a hooker in sight, high class for us lately._ His brother smiled at him from the table where he already had the laptop open to start research. "Give me a minute, Sam, and we can go eat."

Sam nodded and Dean grabbed the small box out of his bag and headed into the bathroom. He still liked a little privacy for the spell. _Especially now. _He sighed, the charm and spell that Bryn Elswyth had given him to control the "scar" from the _onflyge_ didn't seem to be working as well these last weeks. In fact, the scar had altered a little, feeling more like a wound and less like a scar. It worried him a bit.

He set the needed items up on the bathroom sink, measured out the herbs and quietly worked through the spell, the Latin now falling off his tongue as easily as English. _At least for this one spell. _He drank the concoction and sat down for a minute as the odd dizziness the spell produced washed through him. As he waited, he felt the wound twist open and then close again. The dizziness increased a little, he breathed through the wave of accompanying nausea.

"Dean?" Sam said gently from right in front of him. A warm hand wrapped around his shoulder. "Are you ok?"

Dean opened his eyes. "What?" He straightened. "Of course I'm ok." Dean stood up to prove just how ok he was, and then fell against Sam as the dizziness made the bathroom flip over.

"Yeah, Dean, ok."

"Just hungry, you know the spell makes me a little dizzy, Sam."

Sam frowned in concern. "Have you talked to her lately? I thought it would be cured by now."

"It's fine. Magical scars just take longer, I guess." Dean smiled at his brother and walked out of the room, Sam trailing behind him. "Cheeseburgers, Sam, that'll help. Cure-all."

"Dean…"

"Sam…" he replied in the same tone. As expected Sam rolled his eyes, muttered a little under his breath and stalked out of the room. _Works every time, every single time since he was two. Score one for big brother. _ They walked down to the restaurant at the end of the block and, after ordering, Dean started pestering Sam about the hunt. _Distracting him, distracting me. I think I have a little heartburn. Maybe someone snuck a veggie burger in, that'd give me heartburn. _He looked up, Sam was watching him. "Have I sprouted horns or something?"

Sam looked down, a flush rising on his face. "Uh…" He cleared his throat, looked away for an instant and then looked back, his face under control. "I think it's a witch," he said to Dean.

"A witch?"

"Well, a witch's ghost. I think it's Polly Arthur, killed in 1848 for witchcraft."

"They were still killing witches in the 1800s? Nice to know someone was doing the work." Dean sat up straight and rubbed his hand together. "Killing witches, or their ghosts, is always a good day's work." _Most witches, there is one I can think of that I would definitely not kill. The stupid cat, maybe, but not the witch. Ah, hell, I don't even mind the stupid cat. _ "When should we go?"

"Tonight, I think," Sam said. "Judging by the pattern of disappearances, she should appear in that orchard west of town tonight."

"An orchard?"

"She was buried there, under the tree she was hanged from, coincidentally, I think it is the same tree she is hanging people from now."

"Sounds good, Sammy. Can't wait." He smiled. _A good burger, a good hunt, a good night's sleep after. This is shaping up to be a good thing. _He settled in to eat with a happy sigh.

They were in the orchard three hours later. It was cold, the damp pervading the air, the trees, the ground, soaking everything in the orchard, turning the gnarled trunks black. It smelled wet. The wind was picking up as they moved into the orchard. After digging out shovels, salt and gasoline, Dean handed a shotgun full of rock salt to Sam and grabbed one for himself. They headed into the orchard, Sam going left, Dean heading right.

Dean wound around the trees. _Orchards give me the creeps a little. I wonder why? Oh, yeah, nearly sacrificed to pagan god in one. _He stopped for a moment. For the umpteenth time in the last week he had the oddest feeling of being watched, of being followed. He turned slightly, and just at the edge of his peripheral vision he saw something move.

"Sam?" he called, trying to get a better look at whatever it was. _I don't think that's our Polly._

"Yeah?"

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah," Dean said. He moved deeper into the orchard. The stars were sparkling overhead, the cold damp air casting tiny rainbows around each point of light. The sense of being watched was increasing, it was beginning to feel like a knife poised between his shoulder blades. Whatever was behind him was silent. _Nope, don't think that's our ghost. _

The blast of a shotgun ripped through the orchard. Dean was moving towards the sound before the echo cleared the air. "Sam!" He tore through the orchard, Sam was on the ground. Dean bent over him. "Sammy?" When he received no response, he gave his brother a gentle shake. Sam groaned a little. "Come on, Sam." He kept his voice calm, his heart was pounding in his ribcage. And there, again, at the edge of his vision, was movement. "Sam?"

"Dean?" Sam said with a small grunt.

"Are you ok?"

"I think so." Sam sat up, as he did he moved from the shadow cast by the tree. A dark stain was visible on the side of his head. Dean gently turned his brother's head towards him for a better look. "Hey, be careful."

"Yeah, I'm not the one with blood on my face, Sammy." He stood and held his hand out and pulled Sam to his feet. He shifted his shoulders as the sense of the blade in his back returned. "I think our Polly got the best of you."

"I don't think it was her, Dean," Sam said with a puzzled frown.

_Ok, that does it, we'll come back tomorrow. _"Let's call it a night, we've been out here for long enough to know she won't show tonight."

"We can still find the grave and burn her," Sam said.

"It can wait," Dean said, trying to see who, or what, was watching. "If we are back at sundown, she won't have time to hang anyone before we find her. I have a feeling she might be taking the night off."

"Dean…" Sam broke off and looked at him. "Ok. Tomorrow at sundown, good plan."

"Head hurt?" Dean said as they walked out of the orchard towards the Impala.

"Maybe a little," Sam said with a laugh.

Dean kept one eye on his brother as they drove back to the motel, but Sam seemed ok, no lasting damage. _Always a good thing. What was out there? Did it scare off our Polly? And if it did, what the hell is it? Homicidal ghosts don't run from much. _He sighed as he pulled up in front of the room. Sam got easily out of the car. _He's ok. Good. _Dean followed him in and flopped onto the bed nearest the door. He flipped on the TV. "Hey, Spinal Tap."

Sam groaned again. "Dean, no, please no. I will OD and die if we watch it again."

"We haven't even seen it for a month, at least a month," Dean said. _And you know you love it, Sammy, you know you do. _"Come on, Sam."

"No."

"Please," Dean said, employing the tone Sam used against him to get his way.

"Alright, how about we turn it off after 'Stonehenge,' that's your favorite part anyway."

"Ok," Dean said with a smile. _Ha, ha, Sam, made you give in. Like there was ever any doubt I would win that round. _He leaned back on the bed._Didn't get the ghost, but had a great burger and now Spinal Tap. It's still a good night. _He closed his eyes as a sudden wave of dizziness flowed over him. The bed was spinning, flipping over and over. He took a deep breath, and another. The movement stopped, but not before a tiny twinge in his chest, the black spot, the point where the _onflyge _had entered his body pulled a little. _What the hell? _He moved the charm over the spot where the wound had been. Warmth flowed out from it and calmed what was becoming pain in his chest. Dean opened his eyes, Sam was watching him. "Watch the show, jeez, Sammy."

"Are you alright, Dean?"

"Fine," Dean said, turning his attention back to the TV. Nigel was explaining _Mach._ Dean knew Sam was watching him, he could even picture the look on his brother's face, the little frown that squinched up between his eyes. He did his best to ignore Sam until his bother finally turned his attention to the TV.

They'd fallen asleep with the TV on, the light from the screen shifting in the dark room. It was barely a sound that woke him, something like a soft sigh. Dean opened his eyes a tiny slit, trying to take in the room without moving. The door was open a crack, a dark shadow leaning over the edge of the door, looking into the room. Dean had the impression of dark glittering eyes. He slid his hand under the pillow, reaching for his knife, the figure at the door moved, pulling the door closed behind it. Dean was out of bed and at the door within two heartbeats. He yanked the door open and thought he saw a tall shadowy figure running away from the room. _Runs like a man, I wonder what it is?_

"Everything ok?" Sam said from behind him.

"Yeah," Dean said closing the door and, grabbing one of the room's hardback chairs, slid it under the door knob. He checked the lines of salt at the door and the windows. _Not disturbed, what the hell is it?_

"Dean?"

"I don't know," he said, dropping back onto the bed. "Go back to sleep." Dean leaned against the headboard, listening to the TV, listening to the other sounds of the night. Sam fell asleep within a few minutes, Dean sat, listening, watching, until dawn broke through the motel's flowered curtains.

Sam offered to go get breakfast, taking the keys and disappearing without a word. He was back half an hour later with food, pancakes and bacon. Dean smiled when the smell of grease and coffee wafted across the room from the table.

"Smells good, Sammy," Dean said bouncing off the bed and digging into the food with an enthusiasm that had Sam scowling at him. He grinning through the food, Sam just shook his head. "Lighten up, dude," Dean said with a mouthful of pancakes. "What?"

"What happened last night?"

Dean put his coffee cup down. "I don't know, there was someone, something, at the door, Not sure what. I…I don't know."

"Is it what's been watching us?"

Dean looked at his brother. _So you knew? Hmm. Getting better, Sam. How long did you know? And, hey, why the hell didn't you mention it? Huh? I'm the only one who gets to not mention things, remember? _"How long have you known?"

"A day or two. I'm not really even sure what made me think something was there, just a shadow shifting at the edge of my vision, really."

"Yeah." Dean sipped his coffee. "So what's the plan, Sammy?"

"A little more research?" Sam said with a wistful smile on his face.

"You watched Spinal Tap, I can sit in a library and amuse myself for a couple of hours." That earned him the full-blast Sam smile, the one that melted women's hearts. _And he is so utterly unaware. Sad that kind of power isn't even harnessed. _He chuckled to himself. "Let me finish my coffee and then off to the library, how's that?"

The library had a "reading room," at least that was what it said on the door. Large overstuffed chairs with footstools pulled up in front of them. Cozy was the word that came to his mind as Dean entered the room. He'd left Sam happily ensconced in the stacks at a table littered with old newspapers and rolls of microfiche and gone in search of someplace quiet. _Not that I can't research, but I can't keep my eyes open, and if I snore while Sam is working he'll kick the chair over. _His search through the library led him to the reading room. He settled into one of the chairs and put his feet on the stool._Perfect place to research. _He closed his eyes, trying to get comfortable. _Heartburn again. Great, what next?_

The soft brush of air over his face woke him. Years of training kept him from moving. Someone was there in the room with him. He waited, listening for footsteps, nothing seemed to be moving until it was beside him. He felt the touch of something cold on his face, just a whisper of sensation, like being touched with a frozen feather. His heart was pounding wildly, but something told him to keep still. It sighed, whatever it was. _It had to be a what to get beside me like that._The touch moved, still feather-light, along his neck. The movement stopped, something gently prodded the base of his throat with something needle sharp. _Maybe should have run when I had the chance. _

The door to the reading room opened. The thing beside him melted away in the moment between the sound of the knob turning and the door opening. Dean opened his eyes as his brother walked in. Sam stopped as soon as he saw Dean.

"What?" he said soundlessly. Dean shrugged and stood, he looked towards the one hidden place in the room, a single shelf, blocking the view of the fire exit. _Great design plan, hide the emergency escape. _He moved silently around the shelf, listening for a breath, the sound of cloth rubbing against cloth. Nothing. He had just edged around the corner when it moved, shoving him down and diving out the emergency exit. The alarm started blaring.

"Dean?" Sam was bending over him.

"Yeah?" he said, looking up at his brother from where he lay on the floor.

"You ok?" Sam said with a little quizzical frown.

"Sure, just wanted to check out the carpet, nice shag," Dean said, standing. His brother was still looking at him with concern. "Sam? I'm fine." He looked over at the door as a security guard ran in. "Great response time," he muttered to Sam. His brother laughed.

"What happened?" the man demanded.

Sam shrugged. "Some kid was back here, when I came back to get a book he freaked out and ran."

"Damn kids, get stoned and come in here to sleep," the guard said as he turned the key in the alarm box, shutting the horn off. "Sorry you were disturbed." He shook his head and walked out of the room muttering about "kids today."

"Friendly," Dean said, smiling at Sam.

"Oh, yeah, almost as nice as the harpy on the reference desk."

"Not really?" Dean said. "A harpy?"

"Not really, at least I don't think so, there were no rotting bodies lying around, but…"

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah," Sam said with a laugh. "It's getting late, want to get some food before we head back out?"

"Yep," Dean said as they walked out of the library. He pulled the car out of the lot, toying with the idea of going straight to dinner and taking care of the spell after they were back. _No, not with the way it's been acting lately. The sooner the better I think. _The black spot was awake, pain coalescing around the point in his chest. Dean took a deep breath. _Ok, maybe it hasn't been heartburn. Good job on the denial though._

He parked the Impala outside the motel room as the sky was starting to shift into evening. The sun wasn't down yet, but the cloud cover increased the growing twilight. Dean got out of the car and headed into the room. Sam followed more slowly. Dean closed the bathroom door and got the stuff for the spell out. He lit the candle and started reciting the spell. He finished and tossed back the foul tasting liquid. The dizziness hit him before he could sit down. He fell against the wall, breathing through the nausea and pain that flowed over him like a river in flood.

Warm hands were on his shoulders, steadying him. "Bad?" Sam said softly. Dean managed a nod. Sam steered him over and set him down on the toilet. He still kept a hand on Dean's shoulder.

Dean let his head hang down, breathing deep as the wave receded, leaving flotsam in its wake, pain, nausea and the small black spot—it was pulsing in rhythm with his heart. _ Oh, this is just fun. _He took another deep breath and looked up with a little smile. "All better."

"Yeah, right," Sam said. He offered Dean a hand up and frowned when Dean accepted it. "Maybe you should…"

"Go eat? Good idea." Dean said, walking out of the bathroom. His legs still felt a little unsteady as they headed out of the room. He could feel Sam hovering at his back on the way out to the car.

"Burgers. Sammy, they can cure anything," Dean said half an hour later as he swiped his fries through the tartar sauce.

"You keep repeating that, I still don't believe it." Sam said, eyeing the remains of Dean's dinner with distaste. "And extra onions, nice, Dean."

"How else would you eat it?"

"Never mind," Sam said with a laugh. "We should get going if you are finished with that, I guess you can call it food."

"Sure," Dean said, wiping his hands on the napkin. He handed Sam some cash. "I'll be right back." He walked through the small restaurant to the bathroom, just outside the plate glass window he caught that shifting movement. _Just great, this will be a party tonight, I bet._ When he came out, it was still there, just at the edge of his vision._Oh, yeah, fun freaking times. _He shifted the charm on his chest so it was sitting over the black spot, it calmed the rhythmic pain a little. Sam was frowning at him when he dropped in the car. "I'm fine, Sam."

When he pulled up at the orchard the wind was starting to blow, little drops of rain were falling, wetting the already damp ground. He looked over at Sam with a grimace. "In and out?"

Sam looked out the window. "Sounds good."

They broke apart again. Sam headed quickly into the orchard. Dean drifted along, following the path he had taken the night before. He was weaving between the trees, the wind driving the drops of rain into his face. _This is just great. I love rain, my favorite thing. _"Sam? You ok?"

"Yeah, you?" his brother's voice echoed back.

"Yeah." A rock wall, ancient and moss-covered, ran along one side of the orchard. Dean started following the line of the wall, reasoning that the grave might be somewhere along the wall. The sense of being watched was increasing, the blade-like feeling in his back growing and knotting to a point of actual pain. "Sam, you ok?" He called out to break the suffocating silence in the dark trees.

"Yeah, just like three minutes ago."

"Good," he yelled back with a little smile for his brother's snarky tone. _Always good when I can annoy him a little. _He chuckled.

It hit him. Hit him hard, he was down, thrown against the broken trunk of a tree. He brought the gun up, fired it off. The sound shattered the stillness and the sudden light blinded him for an instant.

"DEAN!"

It grabbed him and dragged him away from the gun, tossing him against the wall. He struggled to get to his feet to defend himself. It was on him again, slashing at him with claw-like nails. His skin shredded as easily as paper. He was torn open. The black spot responded to those claws and woke up fully, the sudden pain keeping him down. It grabbed him again and pulled him up. Glittering black eyes met his. _Not a demon,_part of his mind said coolly. It held him as easily as if he were a doll, he was immobile in its grasp. It reached out with one clawed finger and hooked the charm around his neck. With a swift movement it broke the chain and threw the charm over the wall, deep into the fields behind them. Dean could smell something like burned flesh from the thing's hand. It smiled, its teeth bright in the dark night. "Now," it said, dropping him on the ground.

Dean couldn't move, the wounds the thing had inflicted were pulling him away. The thing bent over him with a glowing knife, it looked insubstantial, barely real. Dean struggled to get away. The thing put its knees down on one arm, Dean felt his shoulder dislocate. It looked at him and laughed. A sighing laugh, filled with irony and pleasure. The knife pressed down against his chest, then moved a tiny bit to the left to the exact place where the black spot was awake. The knife drove into his chest, pain lancing out, filling his body with fiery black agony. He thought he heard himself screaming. He wasn't sure, the black wave broke, pulling him along with it.

The thing pulled the knife out and hopped onto the wall above him, chuckling to itself._Just great, it's happy about his. Nice. Why are they always happy about it? _He sighed, trying to get his back more firmly against the wall, trying to stay conscious long enough for Sam to find him. He looked up, it was crouching above him, watching with its night-black eyes, the acrid smell of burned flesh drifting down to him. _Just watching, nothing to say. Nice to know, friendly like. Rip me open, take my charm and leave me here while it watches, probably having coffee or something like that. Where is Sam? Routine hunt. Yep._ He glanced up, the thing was still crouched above him.

_What the hell is that? _Music was playing. _Phone. _He managed to get it out of his pocket. "Sam?"

"Where are you?" his brother's voice said, panicked.

"Against the wall somewhere," he said, trying to keep the pain, the growing weakness, out of his voice.

"Hang up, I'll call back and follow the phone."

"K, Sammy." He hung up and listened as his phone started ringing again then stopped and started again. Again and again, then he heard Sam's running steps getting closer. "Be careful," Dean shouted. _Only, yeah, came out as a whisper. _He looked up at the thing, it watched his brother's approach and then disappeared over the wall, moving into the fields where it had thrown his charm.

"Dean!" Gentle hands turned him over, lifted him a little. He was braced against something warm and soft.

"It took my charm," he said. Or he thought he did. He didn't hear his voice at all.

"Hang on, Dean," his brother said desperately. Dean felt something pressed against his body. "Stay with me, Dean." Sam pressed the cloth tighter against his chest.

_He's trying to stop the bleeding. Hmm. I wonder if it will work?_

"Dean?" Sam's voice came from a long way away. And the pain was gone, the cold was gone. Everything was gently pulled away.

_Don't think it's going to work, Sammy. _

"Stay with me, man, come on."

_Sorry, Sam. Nice try, though._

_**To Be Continued**_

_A/N II: As we have all heard the CW has pulled our beloved show from the lineup as of Feb. 28. There are many reasons being bandied around, whatever the actual reason, we still need to let the network know how we feel about this show—so here's an idea, simple, and doesn't require a long letter. Buy one (or more)__** postcards**__ (postcard stamps are only 26 cents) from your hometown and just write:_

I am a fan and support Supernatural AND those advertisers that purchase time during the show

_I will try and get a list of the advertisers up on my bio today or tomorrow, but just saying we support the ads is important. Send your postcards to:_

**Dawn Ostroff**  
President of Entertainment  
The CW Network 411 North Hollywood Way  
Burbank , California 91505 USA

_While you're at it, drop a postcard to Eric Kripke and let him know how much you appreciate the show as well._

**Eric Kripke**  
9465 Wilshire Blvd  
Suite 880  
Beverly Hills , California 90212 USA


	2. And Fear and Grief and Pain

_A/N: I know I have been slow updating. I will make up for it next week with a couple or more chapters of each story. My much loved beta Abni is visiting from halfway around the world, and though we set out with the best of intentions to post and write, we got caught up in tourist-y things and watching the boys together. A little squeeing here and there. But I will make it up to everyone, promise. For those of you following the saga of the novel, I still haven't heard anything, so keep those fingers crossed._

_A/N II: Even with the potential end of the strike we still need to let the CW know how we feel about our show. Eric Kripke has openly and in public expressed doubts about a fourth season, so keep those letters, cards and postcards rolling in. Addresses are still up on my bio._

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Two**

**And Fear and Grief and Pain**

The sound flowed around Sam, eddying occasionally, the noise becoming something intelligible for a moment, then it was lost again. The lighting was surprisingly soft, touching the room with the tones of evening. It was pleasant, soft muted colors, comfortable chairs, the smell of fresh coffee as a backdrop. It was a pleasant place.

Except for one thing.

And the one thing was a rather large thing.

He was in an emergency room waiting area and his brother was behind the doors, condition unknown. _Well, not quite unknown. I know he was torn to shreds. I know he blacked out. I know I thought he was dead. _He sighed and got up again to pace the room. _What happened? It wasn't Polly that did that. How did Dean let it…? He was a mess, how bad is it? Am I overreacting? Just a little? _He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories of his brother lying against the wall, covered in blood, nearly unconscious, struggling to tell Sam something before he'd slipped away._ I thought he was dead, I thought he was bleeding out, I thought we would never get here. _They had arrived about two hours before. Sam had sat with Dean until they had taken his brother for tests or scans or something. Sam was sure they had told him, but the words hadn't really made any sense. He had left the room Dean had been in and wandered into the waiting area, looking for coffee or water or something to take his mind off of what was happening. _And it is working so well. Yeah, not thinking about it at all. I wonder how long Dean has been gone? _He glanced at the clock, the last twelve hours had actually only been forty-five minutes. _Damn._

"Mr. Stixx?" A woman in scrubs approached Sam.

"My name is Sam," he said, looking down at her.

"They will be taking your brother upstairs as soon as they are through. Why don't you go get yourself some dinner?"

"Through?" Sam said, frowning.

"Yes." She smiled a little. "I'm sure the doctor will want to talk to you in awhile."

_Oh, thanks. That's really helpful. How about someone tell me what's going on right now? That would actually help a lot. Is he dead? Dying? Ok? Does someone have an answer for me? He was dead, wasn't he? Is he ok? Will he be ok? What's happening? Can I take him home? No, you said they were taking him upstairs, and I think I signed papers to admit him, didn't I? _Sam looked at her, she was still standing in front of him with a little smile on her face. _Some day in some emergency room somewhere I am going to violently remove that smile from someone's face. _She shook her head and walked away, leaving him in the middle of the room.

He turned and walked out the doors, out into the cold night, hoping the soft breeze would take the pain out of his head. As he walked across the parking lot, he thought he saw a shadow slip between the cars. He stopped, watching, nothing moved again. Sam paced the length of the lot, twenty-seven rows and then back towards the hospital again. _Dean was trying to tell me something. It must have been important, but what was it? I couldn't hear him and he was gone before he could repeat it. Oh, god, he was nearly gone, I almost lost him, what would I do? What will I do? The year isn't over, he can't leave before the year is over. He can't leave before I save him. He can't. It doesn't work that way. I have to have time to figure this out, I have to. He can't go now, not like this, not yet. No. Please. _

Sam stopped just outside the doors, taking several deep breaths of the cold, misty air. Trying to calm himself. _And it's working, I am so much calmer now. Oh, yeah, very calm. _He took another breath, aware his heart was slamming against his ribcage. _Yeah, calm, that's me. _The door slid open in front of him. A dark reflection caught his eye for just an instant before fading away. He walked back into the now overly warm room, pausing just inside the doors. The room was unchanged. _Of course it is, what was I expecting? Dean to be waiting for me? Actually I think that is exactly what I was expecting. Damn. _Sam started pacing. Back and forth and back again. From one side to the other, then the length of the room. He was on his eighteenth lap when another woman with a hospital badge approached him. She smiled and told him Dean was in room 342.

The elevator was slow, Sam punched the call button a dozen times waiting for the doors to open, then punched the floor number six times before the door closed. The hand punching the button was trembling violently. He slid it in his pocket, hoping to hide his nerves. _From who? The doctors? The nurses? Dean? Please, Dean, be awake and notice, it's ok to notice, as long as you are ok. _He counted slowly in his head, trying to calm himself. His heart was beating faster as the elevator slowed. _Please let him be ok, please let him be ok, please let him be ok. _The doors slid open and Sam walked, half blind, towards the double doors marked rooms 330-350. A doctor was standing outside of Dean's room talking quietly to a woman in bright green scrubs. As Sam approached he noticed pink and blue butterflies on the fabric. They turned as he got closer.

"Mr. Stixx?"

"Sam," he said, looking from one to another. "How is my brother?" The doctor hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough to worry Sam. "What is it?"

"Mr. Stixx," the doctor started, then stopped and smiled. "Sam. We have done our best. His shoulder should be fine, and the cuts will heal."

"But?"

"We need to wait and see."

"For?"_I am good at the one word question, Dean would be impressed._

"Tomorrow, we'll have a better idea tomorrow."

"Of?"_Down to two letters. Can I find a question that is only one letter? I bet Dean could._

"The situation," the doctor said.

"Oh?"_Ok, still two letters, should I go up or down? I wonder. Or hey, I could just try hitting someone, maybe then someone would give me an answer. A real answer. Dean might be pissed if I hit the doctor, though. He seems to be more worried than he used to be when I lose my temper these days. I think the doctor is talking to me. _"What?"_Back to four letters._

"We just need to keep an eye on him tonight."

"Can I go in?" Sam said, giving up on the questioning.

"Of course, he should be awake sometime soon," the nurse said gently.

Sam turned his back on the doctor, knowing the man was frowning at him._And not a good frown, the bad frown, the frown the doctor had before…No. Dean is going to be ok. _The room was quiet. Dean was alone even though there was another bed in the room. Sam walked to the bed.

"You are a mess," he said, looking down at Dean. "You did a good job this time." He sighed and sank down beside the bed, resting a hand on the rail. "I think I saw our friend in the parking lot. I wonder what it is? Any ideas?" Sam leaned back in the chair and reached for the TV remote. He flipped around the offerings three times, stopping occasionally and then continuing the hunt. _Nothing._ Finally, he gave up and walked to the window, looking down at the parking lot.

"Sam?" A soft whisper interrupted his counting of parking spaces.

"Dean?" He turned and walked back over to the bed. "Hey, man, the doc says you're going to be fine."

"It got my charm," Dean whispered.

"What?" Sam said. "I have your necklace." He pulled it out of his pocket and showed Dean. "They took it off before they stitched you up."

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "My charm, the one Bryn gave me, the one for the _onflyge._ It took it, pulled it off, and then…" His voice had drifted off to the barest of whispers.

"Dean? And then what?"

"It…there was a… and then it… I felt… it was…" Dean said. Sam was pretty sure Dean thought he was filling in the sentences with words, instead of incoherent phrases. "Bryn would…We need… tomorrow… please, Sam?" Dean looked at him with imploring eyes.

"What, Dean?"

"Bryn…" he whispered as his eyes closed again. His face was drawn up in a frown of pain. "Please, Sammy?"

"Sure, Dean," he said, putting a hand on his brother's arm. Dean relaxed a little, the frown staying on his face as he seemed to drop into an uneasy sleep. Sam kept his hand on Dean's arm as he sat back in the chair. _What is he talking about? His charm? Why would it take the charm? Why does he still need it, I thought it was supposed to be better by now?_ He sighed and looked at the ceiling. _What is going on? Should I call her?_

Sam looked at the TV with unfocused eyes as he thought about what Dean had said. His mind drifted into something almost like sleep.

"_It's not working, we have to do something," Sam said, desperately._

"_It's overpowering what I've done, Sam," she said, looking at him with compassionate eyes. _

"_Please, please help him," Sam said._

"_You don't understand, another dose…"_

Sam jerked awake when the nurse came in the room to check on Dean. He watched her as she took his brother's vitals, she sensed his eyes on her and smiled at him. "He's doing fine," she said.

"Thanks," Sam said, smiling at her as she left the room.

"Yeah, and I feel fine too. I was sleeping just fine until someone came in and started bugging me," Dean grumbled quietly.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

"Great," Dean said with a small smile. "Just great, when do we leave?"

"Leave? Leave for where, Dean?"

"Bryn's, you said you were going to take me to Bryn's." Dean frowned. "Didn't you?"

"What?" Sam looked at his brother.

"Didn't you say you would take me?" Dean looked confused. "I asked, didn't I?"

_So that's what he was asking. _"Maybe tomorrow, Dean, they want to keep you in here a little bit longer, just to make sure everything is ok."

"I thought you said I was fine?" Dean's voice was sliding to a whisper again, the confused frown replaced by something a little sharper, his face was getting paper white with a tinge of gray. "Maybe you could find someone and see if I could have a little something for pain?"

_Did he just ask for pain meds? Did he just admit to…_Sam smiled. "Yeah, be right back." He stepped out of the room and paused beside the door. His brother asking, openly, for something like painkillers was admitting a lot, admitting something Sam didn't want to think about. _How bad does it have to be for him to ask? How bad is it? What is it? I mean I know he was torn up, but really, stitches and the like are fairly common for him. And he never asks, I have to sneak the stuff in his food half the time and now…Oh, god, how bad is it? And why is he so focused on getting to Bryn? What's going on? And…_He stopped for an instant, a sudden thought making itself known. _He was worse, after the spell, something is going on. Could it be…_ He closed his eyes, no longer in the hallway, but in a bright garden.

"_I don't know, Sam, I don't know. No one has ever survived," she said, laying a gentle hand on his arm._

"_Does that mean it might come back? I know he said it was just a scar, but what does it mean?"_

"_I don't know, I really don't."_

_Sam took a deep breath. "Is it really cured? Or…Could it…" He stopped before he asked the question, he didn't want an answer at that moment._

He pushed himself away from the wall and wandered to the nurses' station and spoke to the petite brunette on duty. She gave him the smile and walked into Dean's room. Sam stopped outside the door again, listening.

"How is your pain? On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain and ten being the worst pain you've ever felt?" she said, reciting the nurse mantra.

"Fourteen," Dean whispered, his voice barely audible to Sam, and yet he could hear the layers of agony that one word covered.

"Really, Mr. Stixx," she said, chiding.

"I meant it," Dean said softly. "Thanks." Sam assumed that meant the nurse had given his brother something for pain. Dean looked over when Sam walked into the room and forced a smile. "Hey, Sammy." The nurse frowned a little and left the room. "Stixx? Nice."

"I thought you'd appreciate that."

"Yep."

Sam sat down beside the bed. He looked closely at Dean, noting the tight lines around his brother's mouth, the pallor of his skin, the slight frown. He put his hand down on Dean's arm and felt the tense muscles under his hand. _Not good, Dean. _ "How are you doing?" _Lie to me, Dean, say it's all ok._

"Good drugs, Sam. I'm feeling better now," he smiled. "I'll be fine in the morning, you'll see."

"Yeah, Dean, in the morning, that's what the doctor said, too." Sam smiled at Dean, the smile was false, he knew it, he was sure Dean knew it as well. He leaned back in the chair. "Want to watch TV?"

"Sure, Sam, sounds good."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly, he let his eyes drift from the screen over to his brother. _Why do I think nothing is going to be better in the morning? _The nursing shift changed, Sam left briefly in search of coffee and returned. Dean was awake, Sam was sure he'd been faking it all along. _Thanks, Dean, but it might be ok to let me know how things really are. _

"Anything on TV?" Dean whispered.

"I doubt we'll find Spinal Tap."

"How about Heavy the Story of Metal?" Dean said with a smirk.

"Oh, look, here's a documentary…" Sam started, Dean groaned. "On alcoholic beverages."

"Documentary? I'd need to be drunk to enjoy it." Dean was trying to smile.

"Yeah." Sam tried smiling back. _And it's working, we are both convincing the other it's all ok. Not. _

The shift changed again at four in the morning. The nurses kept coming and going. Sam was asked to leave once. That nearly panicked him. _Why did they ask me to leave? Why did you ask, Dean? It's easier if I know. Please. It's better if I'm there, I'm not standing here wondering what you are saying. I know what the lies are then, it makes it easier. _He kept hoping that once the sun was up, once it was "in the morning" it would be better, holding on to hope like a child wishing for a pony. _It will be better, it will be better. It has to be better. Please. _

Only it wasn't.

It was worse.

Much, much worse.

And as the day wore on, moving through each nursing shift, it kept getting worse. Dean was not improving. The doctors came and went, talking in quiet voices, looking at Sam with grave concern, muttering quietly and leaving. In and out, throughout the long day. They took Dean for tests and brought him back. Nurses came and went, checking on him, shaking their heads.

"Bryn," Dean said around five that evening. "Take me to Bryn, Sam, before it's too late."

"Dean…"

"This has to do with what that thing did to me, like before with the first wound, they can't help me here. Please, Sam?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," Sam said.

"She can help, we're safe there, Sammy," Dean said desperately. "We're safe there," he whispered. "This is worse than before. We don't have nearly as much time."

"Dean…" he started. Before he could finish his protest the doctor came in._Oh, god, oh no. _The doctor was looking at Dean with compassion. Sam knew that look. _No. No. No. No. No. _The word was getting louder in his head. He must have said something, he felt Dean's hand touch his arm briefly, his brother's hand was ice cold. "Doctor?"

The doctor started talking. The words flowed into Sam, stopping somewhere before they became part of his conscious thoughts. He heard "pain management." He heard "serious." He heard "we don't know." His brain stopped when he heard "end-of-life care." It just stopped, his thoughts, his heart, everything.

"What?" he said or he thought he did. The doctor kept talking. "What?" Sam said a little louder. The doctor glanced at him with a frown and started again. Before he realized what he was doing Sam was up and striding out of the room. He heard Dean call his name as he left, he also knew that Dean was just letting him know he understood that Sam needed a minute.

Sam walked down the hall, he turned into the public restroom and locked the door. Leaning against the wall he tried to calm his breathing. It didn't work, the shallow gasping breaths were quickly becoming something akin to sobs. _He knew. I think they must have spoken with him. He didn't seem surprised at all. He knew. Why the hell didn't he tell me? Dean? Why didn't you just tell me?_ He put his face in his hands, still trying to calm his breathing. _And now he wants me to take him to Bryn. I know he feels safe there, but can she help him? Doesn't he realize… _He stopped the thought as it formed, shoving the memories down where they couldn't touch him with their sharp claws, and still a tiny pinprick of pain, of panic, made itself known. Dean screaming in agony, writhing in pain, Sam's voice begging. Begging for what? _No, no, no. _ Bryn's gentle voice saying… _No. No. _Sam forced the memories down and pushed himself away from the wall.

After splashing water on his face he dragged his hands through his hair and then exited the small room. He glanced at the clock as he walked towards Dean's room. _Twenty minutes? I was in there twenty minutes? _Sam walked into Dean's room and stopped.

His brother was gone.

He went to the nurses' station. "When will Dean be back?" he asked.

The woman frowned at him. "Back?"

"My brother? He's not in his room?"

"He's not?" The nurse frowned, looking at something on the desk. "He should be."

Sam ran into the room. There was a note sitting on the pillow. It just said "Bryn's" on it. He opened the closet, Dean's clothes were missing. _Damn it, Dean. _He glanced out the window and noticed a stumbling figure's halting progress across the parking lot. _When I catch you, Dean, I am going to kill you. _Sam ran out of the room and punched the button repeatedly for the elevator. He counted to fifteen before giving up and heading down the stairs.

Sam was out of the hospital less than two minutes later. Something stopped him as he ran out of the building, a dark shape suddenly appeared before him and shoved him down, the weight landing on his chest and holding him immobile for a minute. "Wait," it said. The voice was deep, resonant, the sound vibrating gently in its chest, almost melodic. It ran sharp claws through his hair. "Wait." Sam pushed up against it, struggling to get free. It laughed, holding him down with ease. "Not yet," it said.

"What did you do to Dean?" Sam asked, looking into its night-black eyes.

"Beautiful things, lovely things," it said with a happy sigh. "It is good." It held up a hand, dark flesh was darker there, looking burned. "Very good. Pain."

"Why?" Sam said, trying to draw a breath.

It laughed, looking at him. "Almost time," it said. The hand disappeared into the soft robes the thing was wearing and came out with a glowing blade. It held the knife in front of Sam's eyes. "Beautiful isn't it? Poison and pain always are, so lovely." And it moved away, as suddenly as it came, vanishing among the cars.

Sam pushed himself up and ran for the Impala. It was there before him. The driver side door was open. Sam heard Dean scream as he ran between the cars. The thing watched Sam get closer, waiting until Sam was almost there before it ran, melting into the darkness like it hadn't even been there.

Dean was slumped against the passenger door. "Dean?" Sam said, reaching over to his brother.

"Am I bleeding?" Dean said, his voice weak, his face a mask of pain.

"Not that I can see," Sam said, running anxious eyes over his brother.

"Good."

"Dean, what the hell were you thinking leaving like that?" Sam shouted, fear for his brother and reaction to the creature making the words harsh and angry.

"Take me to Bryn, Sammy," Dean said without moving.

"Dean…"

"Sam? I…it…" Dean took a deep breath. "I know you were listening to the doctor. There's nothing they can do here. Please, Bryn can solve this, Sammy. And we will be safe from that thing that did it there." Dean opened his eyes and looked at Sam. "Please, Sam?"

_What do I do? Can she help? _Sam dropped into the driver's seat. "It's a long way from here, Dean."

"It's ok, I know that." Dean put his hand gently on Sam's arm. "She'll be able to help, Sam, I'm sure. She did last time."

"You almost died last time, Dean."

"Almost." Dean leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. "Sleepy." His head dropped to the side.

"Dean?" Sam shook him gently, glancing in the rearview mirror, watching the hospital fade from view. _Should I take him back? Can they do anything for him? _"Dean?" His brother made a small affirmative sound. Sam pulled onto the freeway. _No, not now._He tried to shove the memories away.

_The sun was warm, lighting the handmade quilt on the bed, the warm smell of baking bread filling the room. Dean was screaming again, fighting against something, talking to their father, their mother, even Sam. Only he wasn't aware. Sam was holding him down, trying to keep his brother from hurting himself. "Please, please help him," he begged again._

"_Sam, you don't understand, another dose…"_

"_What? Anything would be better…"_

"Sam?" Dean's voice pulled him away from the memories.

"Yeah?"

"Do we have any of the swamp muck left?" Dean asked. It was Dean's name for a magical medicine Bryn had provided them with after their first visit. It treated pain. More importantly it treated other things—things that modern medicine didn't consider.

"I think so," Sam said without taking his eyes off the road. A large semi was trying to pass and he was trying to stay focused on what was going on.

"We might need it," Dean said quietly.

"Give me a minute, ok?" Sam said, easing the Impala around the truck.

"Sooner would be better, Sammy," Dean said calmly.

Something in his brother's voice made Sam turn his head and look over. "Dean?"

"I think you should get it."

Something in Dean's tone panicked Sam. The calm was the "don't worry about anything Sam, it's supposed to bleed like that, everything is ok" calm. The very worrying calm that meant the world was quite probably ending, but Dean didn't want Sam to be overly concerned. Of course, it had just the opposite effect. Sam pulled the car onto the shoulder and got out. He ran to the trunk and dug out the bottle of medicine before opening the door on the passenger side of the car.

"This doesn't look right, does it Sammy?" Dean was looking at his chest.

_No._His mind refused to accept what he saw before him. _Oh, god, no, that can't be real. Dean, why the hell didn't you tell me? When did that start? No, no, it's not real. _Dean reached for the bottle with a trembling hand. Sam held the bottle to Dean's lips so he could drink. "Dean? It's not far now."

"I think it might be too far."

"No, Dean," Sam said, shaking his head, feeling tears form in his eyes._We'll make it, Dean. It's going to be ok. No, no it's not. He can lie to me, maybe, but I can't lie to myself, not now. He's…oh, god… he's…_

Dean nodded. "Sammy, can you do something about the cold?" he said, looking at Sam. "It's cold."

Sam reached into the backseat and grabbed the old blanket. "Is the swamp muck helping?" _See how calm I am Dean? Just as calm as you are, no panic in my voice, just like there is no panic in yours._

Dean looked at him with slightly unfocused eyes, Sam recognized it as an effect of the medicine. "A little. This isn't right, is it?" Dean looked down at his chest before meeting Sam's eyes.

"No, Dean, it's not. But we'll be there soon." _Calm, very calm. Only I seem to be screaming in my head, just a little._

"Ok, Sammy." His words like his eyes were losing focus a little, sounding thick as the spell worked to overcome what it was treating. Sam gently pulled Dean's t-shirt over the growing black hole in his brother's chest then tucked the blanket around him. "Thanks." Dean said, letting his head roll towards Sam. "Looks bad?"

"Not really," Sam said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze before closing the door and walking to the other side of the car. He dropped down and started the engine. "Almost there," he said, looking over at Dean.

His brother looked at him with a little smile. "Sure. Sam?" Dean's voice was thick, slurred.

"It's ok, Dean."

"No," Dean said, reaching a hand out from under the blanket and sliding it across the seat. He let it rest against Sam's leg.

"About an hour only," Sam said, pushing the accelerator down, feeling the hopelessness of the situation, fighting to keep his voice calm. He looked over, Dean's eyes were closed, his breathing shallow.

_No._

_He's dying. Before I even get there. _

_We'll never make it._

_Please, no. _

_**To Be Continued**_


	3. Never May My Woes Be Relieved

_A/N: Thank you as always for reading and reviewing!_**  
**

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Three**

**Never May My Woes Be Relieved**

The lights were bright on the highway, carving swaths of color across the hood of the car as it sped down the road. The blood-red taillights of a semi appeared in front of them and then the huge truck was behind them. The few streetlights marking the exits flashed by so quickly the effect was almost like a strobe light. Sam glanced down at the speedometer._Fast, is it fast enough? It has to be fast enough. We have to make it. We have to. Now that we are so close, please. _He looked over at his brother, unmoving, in the passenger seat.

Dean seemed to sense his eyes on him. "Wreck the car, Sammy, and I'll kill you."

"I know," Sam said with a forced laugh. "How do you feel?"

"Didn't you just ask me that like five seconds ago?"

"It was half an hour," Sam snapped.

"Fine, whatever. I'm doing just great," his brother said, shifting a little in the seat. "How far?"

"Not long now," Sam said, watching the exit sign approaching. "Five miles."

"Good," Dean said, the little volume in his voice suddenly gone.

"Dean?"

"Still here, Sam."

Sam looked over at Dean. His brother was slumped against the door, curled up in the ratty blanket. _You're still there? Hang on just a little longer._He turned his eyes back to the dark highway, watching the signs flash by. The flickering of the light was almost hypnotic as he drove. Memories started clawing their way to the surface.

_The kitchen smelled of coffee, the sun was streaming in, warming Sam's back as he leaned against the sink. "How long will he be out?" he asked her._

_She smiled gently. "I don't know, each case is different, each spell runs its own course."_

"_I guess I was kind of hoping he'd be awake this morning," Sam said, sipping his coffee. "When you treated Jess…"_

"_Sometimes things work that fast, not always though."_

"_Yeah," he said, biting back the disappointment. He took a breath to go on when a scream shattered the tranquil kitchen. "Dean!" He ran for the bedroom. Dean was still screaming when he got there. Sam put his hands on his brother's shoulders, holding him down as a spasm ran through his body. "What's happening?" he demanded._

"_Sam…" He looked at her, the expression on her face was profoundly sad._

"_No…" Dean moaned, writhing under his hands. "No, please no, make it stop, Sammy."_

Sam took a deep breath, trying to bring his focus back onto the road in front of him. His hands were shaking, he held on a little tighter. _Dean wants to go back, but he doesn't realize, doesn't know what happened. I probably should have told him more. _He realized he had gripped the steering wheel in a hold so tight his knuckles were white. _Should I tell him? What can I tell him, I know I told him a little, but sometimes I think he doesn't believe me. Do you know what going back there means to me, Dean? Do you? _

The exit he was looking for appeared, he pulled off, the small town rushing by. _Please no speed traps, please no speed traps. _Bright lights suddenly appeared behind him, he eased the car off the road. The cop walked up to the window. _No, no, this will take too long., I have to get to her house and soon. If he dies only minutes from there, what would I do? After all this, after bringing him all this way and then he dies because of a cop. _He took a deep breath._ Please, please let something go right, just a little something. _

"Going a little fast weren't you?" he said, shining his flashlight in the car. He frowned when the light touched on Dean. "What's going on?"

Sam swallowed. _Truth or not? _"My brother's sick, I was tying to get him to…"

"Bryn?" The cop finished for him. Sam nodded. "Ok, slow down a little, no need to kill yourselves before you get to her. Tell her Hank said hello." He patted the edge of the window and walked back to his car.

Relief flooded through Sam. _Finally, something went right. _He pulled the car back onto the road, heading out the other end of town. Something caught his eye. He glanced in the rearview mirror again. _What was that?_Something, just for an instant, had flickered in the mirror. A sudden tension sprung to life in his back. _It can't be. How could it be here?_ He made the turn up the driveway, the tension becoming something more urgent. _It's getting close. No. We have to make it. _The tires sped over a ring of stones buried in the ground, Sam stopped at the first gate and threw it open, running back to the car he was inside the fence and had the gate closed before whatever was behind them could catch up. He saw the shape hit the ring of stones, stopping as abruptly as if it had hit a wall. It screamed in fury.

Sam pulled the car to the second, inner, fence. The intricate iron gate swung open as he approached. As he parked the car, he heard the gate clang back into place. "We're here, Dean," he said, reaching across the car to his brother. Dean didn't move. "Dean?" _No, no. _

The passenger door opened, a blast of cold air flowing into the car. "Can you get him into the house?" Bryn said, laying a gentle hand on Dean's chest and looking over at Sam.

"Yeah," he said._Easier said than done. _He managed to get Dean out of the car. His brother mumbled something as he was pulled out of the seat. "We just need to get you inside," Sam said, keeping his voice calm. He followed Bryn into the house and gently lowered Dean onto the bed in the ground floor bedroom. _Her room, she must know it is bad to bring him here. _

Bryn left the room and reappeared with a small vial in her hand. "Can you hold his head?" Sam nodded. "Dean? You need to swallow this for me." Dean mumbled something again. She laughed gently and then put her hand on Dean's chest. "Just breathe easily if you can, Dean, just relax," she said.

Sam watched as his brother's body slowly lost the tension caused by pain. Dean's head dropped to one side and his breathing evened off, becoming a little deeper, a little less forced. Dean sighed and shifted a tiny bit under her hand and then, to Sam's surprise, started snoring softly.

"I guess he's asleep," Bryn said with a little laugh. She took her hand off of Dean and walked to Sam, pulling him into a tight hug. A warmth flooded his body as she held him. He relaxed a little, the stress of the last few days draining out of him, replaced by exhaustion. "Your bed is ready, Sam, go up and get some sleep," she said, releasing him and giving him a gentle shove out the door. "I'll keep an eye on Dean."

Sam stumbled down the hallway, his feet remembering the way. He walked up the steep staircase and into the tiny bedroom that had been his the last time they had stayed with Bryn. A pair of sweats and a t-shirt were lying on the bed. He picked them up and looked at them for a moment before changing. _She was expecting us. _He slid into the bed, his feet coming to rest against something warm at the foot of the bed. He sifted his feet around the warm object. _A hot water bottle? Still nice and hot? She was expecting us tonight. _He sighed, pulled the blankets up over his shoulder and was asleep before another thought could form.

**XXX**

_I hope this is a nightmare. _

The creature moved slowly up Dean's body. _Never a good thing, I hope this is a nightmare. _

The creature's weight crept up the length of his legs, moving across his back and coming to rest at the base of his neck. He held perfectly still, not even breathing. It prodded him with a claw and then something cold and wet was shoved against his face. Dean opened one eye, his gaze was returned by a pair of bright green eyes. "Stupid cat," he said, rolling over. The cat hopped off him with a little growl, then stood on the bed looking at him. "Hello." The cat walked to him and rubbed its head under his hand, he absently petted it while he looked around the room.

_We made it. I thought it was a dream, but we made it. _The sunlight streaming through the windows was warm. The bed was soft under him and the rich, homely smell of coffee and baking bread filled the room around him. He pushed himself into a sitting position. _That worked, let's try for standing. _Swinging his legs off the mattress, he grabbed the chair by the bed and pulled himself up. The cat watched him as he swayed a little, satisfied he wasn't going to fall, the cat hopped off the bed and walked to the door, looking back at him. "I'm coming." He followed the cat down the hall and into the kitchen.

Bryn was standing at the window in the bright kitchen. She looked over and smiled as Dean walked into the room. "Good morning," she said, pouring coffee into a cup and handing it to him. "How do you feel?"

He smiled at her. _I always wonder if she knows and is just being polite or if she really wants an answer. _"Better than I did," he said, sitting down at the table. "Where's Sam?"

"Still asleep," she said, smiling at him.

"Feels familiar." He laughed. "He seems to sleep better here." _Of course he does, I do too. Even before Sam actually knew, part of him realized we were safe here, completely safe. It changes the way you sleep, knowing you are safe. _He sighed. _Safe._ "Cinnamon rolls?" he said, sniffing the rich scent, a smile slowly growing on his face._Safe, cinnamon rolls, even the stupid cat. Feels good._

"Yes, can you manage a shower?" Bryn said, coming over and laying a hand on his shoulder. Warmth moved out from the touch, the cold black spot in his chest shrinking a tiny bit.

He smiled up at her. "I think so." He stood. The cat jumped off the counter and walked to stand beside him. "I think I can shower without your help. Cats don't like water, remember?" The cat looked up at him. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Whatever, you can come." Dean looked over at Bryn with a smile "I suppose our clothes are all already washed and folded?"

"And I laid a clean set out in the bathroom," Bryn said with a laugh.

"Thanks," he said, walking out of the kitchen. The cat preceded him into the bathroom and hopped onto the sink. "Stupid cat." He turned the shower on and stepped in, letting the hot water flow over his body, relaxing muscles knotted by pain. He sighed. Now that he was alone he let his guard down completely. _We're safe here, but this is bad. So much worse than last time. I wonder if Sam realizes that yet? And if he doesn't should I keep it from him? Bryn won't let him know unless I ask her. _Dean let his head hang and looked inside, testing the boundaries of the black spot, now awake in his chest, fully awake, slowly pulling his life away. _Just great. So much for a year. Maybe she can help, if not, I wonder. I need to ask her, but not when Sam's around. _

He didn't know how long he had been in the shower, but the water had started to cool. A black paw pushed aside the curtain. He looked down at the cat. "I'm ok. I'll be right out." _Great, already talking to the cat. That didn't take long. _He stepped out of the shower and toweled off, as he opened the door her heard Sam's voice in the kitchen, a little urgent, a little angry, and Bryn's calm response. _Give her a minute, Sammy. _

"Morning, Sam," he said, coming into the kitchen. The shower and the walk down the hall had tired him more than he thought it would. He sank down in a chair. Bryn put another cup of coffee in front of him. "Thanks." Dean looked at his brother, Sam still had shadows under his eyes. _Not looking good, Sammy. Relax, everything is ok here. _"I'm feeling better," he said, knowing what Sam might need to hear.

Sam looked at him closely, a little frown on his face. "You are," he said with a sigh of relief. He dropped down into the chair across from Dean. "What did you do?" he said to Bryn.

"Nothing yet, nothing but what you saw last night," she said, putting the coffeepot and a plate of fresh cinnamon rolls on the table. "What happened?" She looked at Dean and then over at Sam.

_She's assuming Sam knows this time. Damn, I was hoping to avoid part of this. _"It started about three weeks ago," Dean said, watching his brother.

"What?" Sam looked at him with a frown.

"The scar started, I don't know, bugging me, it kind of changed character. Then a few days ago the after effects of the spell started getting worse, like it was fighting something big. It actually felt a lot like when I first started doing it." Dean was still watching Sam, his brother was staring into his coffee cup.

"You should have called me," Bryn said gently.

"I planned to, actually, then we started this hunt. A witch's ghost, I guess." He grinned at her and shrugged. "Not a Glinda."

"Most aren't," she said, laughing.

"Something was following us, I'm not sure what it was, but it attacked me." _And left me bleeding against a wall and waited until Sam found me before it left, like it didn't want me to die. Weird. Hadn't thought of that before. _"It took my charm."

"And?" Bryn said with a frown on her face.

"It stabbed me. Later, in the car, it rammed a hand into the wound, it felt like it was forcing it open further."

"Jesus, Dean, why didn't you say anything," Sam nearly shouted.

_So you could panic? Or drag me back into the hospital? Nope. _"I didn't want to worry you," Dean said, looking at his brother. Sam took a deep breath, Dean raised his eyebrows. "Sammy?"

"What?" Sam looked a little agitated. _Well actually a lot agitated, he has that I-want-to-hit-you-Dean look on his face._

"It's ok, we're here now, Bryn will figure it out. Right?"

She smiled at him and then at Sam. "I'll do my best, as always. If you don't mind I'd like to get a better look at the wound."

"You're the witch doctor," Dean said, smirking a little.

"Thanks, better than freaked out New Age whack job, I guess. Maybe I'll get that on my business cards, Bryn Elswyth, Ph.D., W.D. What do you think?"

"Sounds great, I bet Sammy could run it up on his computer while you take a look at me," Dean said, standing. "Where do you want me?" He tried to keep his voice calm as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his balance.

"Dean!" Sam's hand was on his arm, steadying him.

"Thanks," he said, leaning against his brother.

"Get him to the bedroom." Bryn's voice sounded far away.

Sam put an arm firmly around his waist and took his weight. He was half carried down the hall. Dean kept his eyes closed. _That way the world doesn't spin so much. Nice. At least I got coffee and half a roll. _He was lowered onto the bed.

"Pain?" Bryn said.

Dean nodded. "A little," he said, swallowing.

"Don't lie to the witch doctor," Bryn said. "I'll be right back and then we'll take a look at that wound."

Dean nodded again. "I'm ok, Sammy." _I am, really, Sam. Believe me. It hurts, sure, but it's ok. We're safe here, we have time here. It's ok. And the sun is warm, too. Please believe me. I think I am more ok now than I have been in awhile._

"Sure you are, Dean," Sam said. Dean felt his brother's weight settle on the edge of the bed. The cat jumped on the bed. _Bryn must be back. _"I'll give it to him," Sam snapped. Dean felt a glass held to his lips, he drank what was there.

"Slime, you're giving me slime again."

"I put mint in it to make it taste better," Bryn said with a laugh.

"You always say that. I think you're lying to me."

"Can I look at the wound?" she said.

"Sure." He pulled his shirt up without opening his eyes. He heard Sam suck in a painful breath. "Sammy?"

"It's ok, Dean."

"Yeah, right." Dean opened his eyes. Sam's face was white. He looked down at his chest._Wow, it's still visible, last time I felt it, but you couldn't see it. I don't think that's good._

Bryn's hands hovered over the wound. "May I?" she said softly. Dean nodded. She placed a hand on the edge of the black spot. Pain lanced out from the touch. Dean ground his teeth together. "Sorry," she said, sliding her hand around the edge of the wound and then, taking a deep breath, she laid her palm on the spot itself. The pain was nearly unbearable. Dean cried out involuntarily at the touch. It felt like she had plunged her hand into his chest.

"Stop," Sam said, his voice hard. Dean felt Bryn's hand pulled away from his chest. He opened his eyes. _Hey, when did I close them? God I hope that wet stuff on my face is sweat and not tears. _Sam was holding Bryn's arm in a tight grip, Dean could see red marks already forming on her arm. The cat had his back arched, tail fuzzed out to nearly twice its normal size. It was hissing at Sam, fangs bared.

"Sam." Dean said quietly. "You too, cat."

His brother looked down at him, Sam's eyes were a little wild. "Dean…"

"I'm ok. It just stung a bit," Dean said, trying to struggle up into a sitting position. He looked at Bryn, her eyes were bleak. _I hope Sam misses that look, at least for awhile. _"Well?"

"I'm going to go get something else for you to take, I'll be right back." She walked away. The cat took a swing at Sam and then followed her out of the room.

"Sammy?" Dean said.

His brother deflated, dropping onto the edge of the bed again. "The cat hates me."

"You said that when we were here before."

"Yeah," Sam said, smiling a little. "Why didn't you tell me about the scar getting bad again?"

Dean shrugged. "I thought it would go away, Sam." _Ok, truth time, Sammy, and sorry I didn't mention this too you before, but…_"It had before you know."

"Before? What exactly does that mean?" Sam said, his voice dangerously calm.

_Storm's about to break, look out. _"It's acted up once or twice, but it's gone away after a week or so."

"Dean?"

"You're turning a little red, there, Sammy."

Sam swallowed and opened his mouth. He took a deep breath and stood, looking out the window. Dean noticed Sam grow still. His brother's hands clenched and unclenched. _What, Sam? What do you see? _"I think I see our friend out there on the fence line," Sam said, almost as if he had heard Dean's thought.

"He can't get in here, nothing can. You know that." Dean sighed. _Safe, see, Sam, we are safe here. Nothing can get to us here, nothing. _

Sam turned back to him with a funny look on his face. "Dean?" His brother shook his head and sat back down on the bed. "I…I want to talk to you about…"

"Here," Bryn said, coming back into the room. "This will help a little until I can figure out what we need to do." Dean looked at her, the bleak look was still there, and a tightness at the sides of her mouth. She held the cup out to Dean.

Sam grabbed it, sniffed it and looked at her. "What is it?" he said, his voice harsh, nearly a bark. _What's wrong with you, Sam? _

Bryn gave Sam an intense look. _Ok, something is going on between those two, but what? Does it have to do with those angry words I heard this morning and the fact Sam has just turned into a mother bear defending her young? And would he love that image? _Dean chuckled a little at the thought, they both turned to him. _Ha, made you look._

"It's a mixture of herbs—red clover, vervain, hyssop, valerian, betony, yarrow, elder and some others."

"Poison?" Sam snapped.

"In the wrong hands, yes."

"Oh?"

"Sam?" Dean said._What is going on, would you relax?_

"I just want to know what she wants you to take, Dean."

"I trust her."

"It's ok, Dean," she said gently. "I understand."

"What will it do?" Sam said. _You are like a bulldog about this, Sam. We're going to have to talk about it._

"It should break the cycle of the wound a little until I can better solve what's going on." Her eyes met Dean's. _She might be lying to Sam a little._He nodded to her that he understood.

Sam looked into the glass again and then held it out to Dean. He reached for it, but his hands were shaking too badly to grab it. _Oh, fun, that's starting early. _Sam held it so he could drink. Dean leaned back as a gentle warmth flooded through his body. He was floating a little.

"Sleepy," he said after drifting on a warm cloud for a minute or two.

"It will put you to sleep."

"Will I wake up?" he said.

"This time, yes," she said her voice soft.

_This time? Does that mean I might not wake up next time? Hmm, I wonder what Sam will think of that statement. _

He was aware of his brother as he dropped off to sleep. Sam had pulled the quilt over him and was sitting on the bed. Dean felt his brother's hand close over his. _Better let go before I wake up, Sam. _

_I will wake up, won't I? This time, she said. I wonder what that means? I didn't get a chance to ask, yet. But she said I'll wake up. I'll ask before…_

_I have to know._

_It could change everything._

_**To Be Continued**_

_A/N: For those of you waiting for the promised flashback to the missing five days from Waxing and Waning, your wait is nearly over._


	4. From The Highest Spire of Contentment

_A/N: For those of you waiting for Sam's POV from the five missing days here is the first of it. As I wrote I realized there was a lot of ground to cover there. Sam told me it would be unfair to them as well as the reader to just try and slam it all into one chapter._

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Four**

**From The Highest Spire of Contentment, My Fortune Is Thrown**

The sun was warm, streaming through the windows and lighting his face, making bright spots against his eyelids. The bed was exactly the right temperature, the soft covers just perfect. A gentle rumble came from beside his head. _Stupid purring cat. _Something warm and comforting was clasped around his hand. _You had better let go of my hand before I'm all the way awake, Sam._ Dean sighed.

"Awake?" Sam said softly from beside the bed.

"Nope," Dean said, opening his eyes. He glanced at the window, the light had the look of afternoon. "What time is it?"

"Around two, I think," Sam said, looking at him. "How do you feel?"

Dean met his brother's eyes. _How much should I lie?_ Sam frowned at him. _He might know I'm lying a little. _Dean closed his eyes for a minute, looking inside, feeling the wound where it rested, black and cold, against his heart. He opened his eyes again. Sam's frown had deepened. "A little better, Sam."

"Really?" A slow smile spread across his brother's face.

"Really," Dean said. "Bryn's magic medicine, always helps. Nice to have a witch on our side, Sammy." He shifted around in the bed, getting a little more comfortable. Sam had stiffened, Dean saw the sudden tension in his brother's shoulders.

"Yeah." The word was heavy, full of other meanings.

"Okay, what?"

"What, what, Dean?"

Dean pushed himself into a sitting position. Sam automatically straightened the covers over his chest. "Thanks. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

_Are we going to play twenty questions? What do you think I mean? You didn't want to come here. Now that we are here, you are acting like a bear protecting her cub. _He paused as the image of a fuzzy Sam played in his head. _I have to stop that. So, Sam, out with it. What's going on?_ "You know what I mean. What's bothering you?"

"Other than the fact that you didn't bother to mention what was going on? Other than the fact that you were in the hospital yesterday? Other than the fact that…" Sam paused and dragged a hand through his hair. "They said end-of-life care, Dean."

"I know, Sam," Dean said gently. "But Bryn can fix it, she did last time." He gave Sam's arm a little squeeze. Sam's eyes looked a little wild. _What's going on, Sam? _"Does this have something to do with what happened last time?"

Sam sighed, a deep sad sound. "I was going to tell you earlier." He stood and paced to the window, looking out across the field beside the house. "I meant to tell you a long time ago."

"Sam, what?" Dean thought back to their last visit. "It has something to do with the time after I took the spell?" Sam still had his back to him, Dean could see the tension is his brother. "Come on, Sam. You never told me what happened."

"I never…"

"Yeah, when I woke up, you mentioned a little something, but you never really told me what happened."

"I mentioned a little something, Dean?" Sam's voice was calm.

"Yeah a little, not much, just that you had to give me another dose of the spell," Dean said, watching Sam.

"Just that little detail?" Sam said, still with his back turned, still with that calm voice. Dean noticed his brother's hands were shaking. _Okay, here we go, any minute now._

"Yeah, just that."

"That tiny little detail? Sam said, finally turning around. "Just that? That little thing…" He took a deep breath.

"Sam?" _I wonder if I should push him a little harder, we have to talk about this._

"That little thing where I gave you the dose of medicine…"

"Yeah that…" _Oh boy, his face is really getting red. Run, Stupid Cat, run, Sammy's going to blow. _

"The dose of medicine I was sure was going to kill you?" To Dean's surprise his brother's voice dropped to a mere whisper.

_Oh, this is worse than I thought. _"Uh huh." _Man of few words when I need to be._

"Dean…"

"But it didn't Sammy, I got better." _Well, mostly, except for the scar, except for the fact I am back here in this bedroom again. _

"You don't understand," Sam said, his voice under complete control, although the volume was a little low.

"Then tell me." _What's wrong? _

"I can't." Sam looked away again, his voice still under tight control. Dean could hear the control slipping a little.

_Okay, what's going on? Sam, come on. Is this why you are overreacting to Bryn? Why the cat hates you? What? Come on, Sammy. _"Tell me."

"Dean…"

"Sam? Just tell me, you said you were, what, just get it out, okay?" Dean said, a little harsher than he intended. _I'm getting worried here. _Sam was shaking. "Sam?"

"I can't," the whisper was barely audible.

"Sam?" _Oh, much, much worse than I thought it was. _"Bryn told you it might kill me, you knew that when you gave me the second dose. But it helped, it cured me. It's okay, I already told you that."

"You don't understand, Dean."

"Then tell me," he repeated.

"I'm not sure…" Sam said calmly.

Then, with another calm breath, Sam exploded. He slammed his hand into the wall, he was shaking violently. He had turned away, pressing his hands and face against the back corner of the bedroom, gasping breaths racking his body.

"Sam!" Dean somehow got himself off the bed and grabbed his brother's shoulders. Sam struggled against him, but Dean held on, sure now that something dire was happening with his brother. "SAM!" He gave his brother a hard shake. _Well as hard as I can manage right now. _Sam was still looking wild, his eyes unfocused, tears pooled at the edges. His face was…_Oh, god, that's guilt. Sam? What?!? _"Sammy!" Dean swayed a little as the room did a spin. _Not now, go away. _He held onto Sam's shoulders to steady himself. The action brought his brother's eyes back into focus.

"Dean? What are you doing out of bed?"

"Not changing the subject on me, sorry," Dean said, still balancing himself with his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Out with it." His legs chose that moment to go out from under him. _Damn, not now, Sammy first. _Sam caught him and got him back over to the bed. He let Sam get him settled again, propping pillows behind his back and pulling the covers over him again. The cat watched Sam carefully from the other pillow at the head of the bed. _Stupid cat._

Dean watched his brother as he fussed, trying to recall the conversation from months before when he had first woken up after taking a dose of medicine Bryn had brewed to deal with the _onflyge. Five days, I was out five days and something happened. Something big. _He concentrated. _Sam had been agitated when I woke up, then the next time even more so, that's when he let out about the second dose, and how it might kill me, that's when…Hmmm. Let's see, he said he thought it would kill me…_His brother's voice played softly in his head. _"I even wanted it to at one point." Oh god, is that what this is about? Sam, why the hell didn't you tell me?_ "Sam?" He caught his brother's wrist and pulled him down to the edge of the bed. "Tell me."

Sam looked at him, the tears had made their escape and were trickling down his brother's face. "I wanted to tell you earlier. I tried, I…You felt safe here and it was me who…Dean I…"

"Sam?"

His brother took a deep breath. "I should have told you a long time ago…"

**Nine Months Earlier**

It was quiet for a moment. Sam looked away from his brother, to the dark window, the curtains moving a little in the warm breeze. _No, Dean, no. Please don't say it. _He looked back at his brother when Dean laid a gentle hand on his knee and gave it a little squeeze. "I'm not going to make it through the night, Sammy. I think you know that, too. If we don't try this, I'll be gone anyway."

"Dean, I just don't…" _Suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea anymore, Dean. I just don't know. Kill or cure, you heard her. And Dean? I'm not ready to say goodbye. _He stopped, pulling a breath into lungs that didn't seem to be working right. _Fear does funny things._

"Yeah, me, too." Dean tried to smile. It was his big brother nothing-to-worry-about smile. The one that appeared as something to worry about appeared as well.

The cat hopped back onto the bed. Sam turned. Bryn came back into the room carrying a heavy silver goblet. "Fancy cup," Dean said.

"Ritual cup," she said. "It's supposed to be fancy."

"That the stuff?" Dean asked. Sam could hear the undercurrent of fear in his brother's voice.

"Yes, it doesn't taste good, and I can't put anything in it to mask the flavor. It does have fennel in it, which helps, but the plantain, mugwort, yarrow and some other herbs kind of overpower the fennel."

"Not to mention the spell, right?" Dean tried for a little laugh. _Nice try, Dean. Not fooling me though._

"Yes, but they don't really have a lot of flavor."

"Is it quick? I mean to put me out?" Dean asked, meeting Sam's eyes.

"Pretty quick, yes," Bryn said in her gentle voice.

"Ok, I'm ready." Dean reached for the cup. Sam noticed how badly his brother's hands were shaking. _That's not just the poison. Oh, god, Dean, you're as terrified as I am, aren't you?_

"Here, Dean, let me," Sam took the cup and slipped his arm behind Dean's back so he could sit up a little. He held the cup against Dean's lips. Dean was trembling as he took the dose, his muscles still tense with pain.

Sam felt Bryn take the cup out of his hand. "I'll be in the garden." She put a warm hand on his shoulder and then left them alone. Sam shifted onto the bed so he was sitting beside Dean. The cat settled on the end of the bed, looking at them. Dean looked at the cat and then over at Sam. "Stupid cat," Dean said, his voice a little thick.

"Yeah, Dean, stupid cat." Sam tried a laugh. _That sounded a lot more like a sob. Sorry, Dean, trying to stay calm for you. It's really not working. Kill or cure, right?_ He felt Dean lean against him a little. His brother was beginning to relax, his eyes fluttering a little. Dean's head dropped to the side. _Now that it's here, Dean, I'm a little panicked by it all. _"Dean, I…I…" _If this is goodbye, Dean. God, what can I say? Thank you? I'm glad we're brothers? I'll miss you? I…I…_

"Yeah, Sammy, me, too." Dean's eyes had finally closed, his voice was vague.

"I'll see you in the morning, Dean."

"Yeah, I'll see you, Sam. In the morning." Dean sighed. "Sammy?"

"Dean?" _He's afraid._

"Don't leave."

"Don't worry, Dean, I'll be here when you wake up." _And Dean? Please wake up, okay? _Sam felt his brother's hand come into contact with his. He looked down for a minute then took it in his, holding tight. Dean's hand curled around his. Dean was silent, his breathing slowing as the spell took effect. His hand remained curled around Sam's long after every other vestige of consciousness was gone.

Sam let his head rest against the headboard, still holding his brother's hand. _Dean will kill me when he wakes up. _A thought came, unbidden, unwanted. _If he wakes up. No. No it has to be when. He has to make it. _Sam sighed. The cat wandered up the bed and curled up beside Dean, resting a paw on his shoulder. Sam smiled. _Dean and that cat. It is a little uncanny as cats go._

"Is he asleep?" Bryn said from the door.

Sam looked up. "Yeah." He swallowed. "How long?"

She came in the room and sat in the chair by the bed. "I don't know. As I said, the wound was old by the time I got to it, and it took me a long time to figure it out. I am so sorry about that."

"Will it work?"

"I hope so," she said with a gentle smile. "You should get some sleep, Sam. Dean won't wake up for several hours at least."

"I promised him I'd be here," Sam said, hearing the desperate note in his voice.

"I understand." She stood. "Help me move that big chair from the living room." She must have sensed his reluctance to leave Dean. "Pyewacket?" The cat looked up at her. "Come get me if there is any change, okay?" The cat blinked. _Yeah, uncanny. _

Sam slid carefully off the bed, as if he might accidentally wake Dean. He followed Bryn into the big room and the front of the house. She pointed at a large overstuffed chair with bright sprigged cotton. To Sam's surprise, she did help him drag the large chair back into the bedroom, moving the hardback chair beside the bed out of his way as he shoved the large chair in place.

Bryn left the room and came back in with another quilt, she handed it to him with a little smile. "Now, sleep. Pye will wake you, and me, if there is a change that we need to deal with."

"Do you think there will be?" Sam asked as he settled in the chair.

"Not tonight," she said gently and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder for a minute. Warmth flowed out from the touch. _Weird how she does that. _She smiled at him and left the room.

Sam leaned back in the chair, suddenly sleepy. _I think she did something. I wonder if Dean's right about her? Witch?_ His eyes closed, even though he tried to fight it. Sleep claimed him and pulled him away. As he dropped off, he put his hand back over his brother's.

The change in the air woke him. The breeze had picked up and wafted the rich scents of the garden into the room. The sun was streaming through the curtains, warming the room. Somewhere in the house bread was baking and coffee was brewing. _I wonder if she has air freshener that smells that way? Every morning baking bread and coffee. _Sam opened his eyes, the morning still coming into focus. _Dean. _

His brother was still asleep, lying in the same position as he had been the night before. _He is going to be stiff when he wakes up. _Sam stretched and stood up, the cat looked at him. "I'm going to get coffee, I'll be back. If he starts to wake up, come get me." _I'm glad Dean didn't hear me talking to the cat like that. _ Sam walked to the kitchen, the room was bright and warm. _It does feel safe here. Dean's a little right about that. _

"Good morning," Bryn said, smiling and handing him a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep?

"Yeah, thanks for that." _Not sure how you did it, exactly, but thanks anyway._

"I thought you needed a little sleep, Sam. I hope you don't mind. I didn't think you'd sleep otherwise."

"No, you were right," he smiled at her. "He hasn't moved at all." The worry crept into his voice. "He's usually a restless sleeper."

"This isn't a natural sleep, it's almost like sedation. His body has to be slowed down for the spell to work."

"I remember from class," Sam said with a sad little grin. "It was a little like that with Jess."

"A little. Her illness was organic, so it didn't need as much of the other," Bryn said gently. "What's wrong?" she said. Sam looked over, the cat had come into the room. "Coming." She followed the cat back to Dean's room.

Dean had shifted a little. A moan escaped his lips as they walked into the room. Sweat had beaded on his forehead. He moaned again. It was a sound of fear, of pain, it echoed through the room. Bryn walked to the bed and put a hand on his head, her eyes closed. Sam watched her for a minute, a frown had appeared on her face.

"Sam? In my study on the shelf there is a dark blue bottle, can you go get it?" she asked. He hesitated. _Why can't you go get it? _"I need to stay here," she said without opening her eyes. "Please, Sam, we need it."

Something in her tone frightened him. He walked down the hallway and into the study. The room faced the garden, the sun was filtering in and the scents of the warmed earth and dried herbs assailed his senses. There was a shelf, covered with a myriad of bottles, to his left as he walked into the room. Sam ran his eyes over the shelf. Red bottles, purple bottles, some with liquid some with powders. He wasn't sure how he knew which bottle to grab, but his hand closed over a medium size dark blue bottle with a silver stopper. He carried it back with him.

"What's in it?" he said as he handed it to her.

"It's a variation of the swamp muck, something to help without interfering with the other spell. Hold his head, please."

Sam held Dean's head as she patiently gave his brother the medicine one drop at a time, waiting till Dean swallowed before giving him another dose. Sam had no idea how long it took. He was focused on the pain-soaked groans coming from his brother. He seemed to be only aware of the trembling of Dean's muscles as his body fought an unknown foe. Finally, seemingly years later, Dean started to relax again. The groans became a soft whisper, then nothing. Dean dropped back into the soundless, unmoving sleep.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, his voice harsh, demanding.

"The _onflyge_ is fighting my spell. I told you it was an old wound when I got to it."

"Can you…Will you be able to…?"

"We just need to wait, Sam. I know it's hard. Waiting is always the hardest part. Come out and eat something. Pye will let us know if something happens." She pulled on his hand, tugging him out of the room and back to the sunlit kitchen.

He sighed and looked out the window at the intricate gardens, the trees bordering the back and the iron fence around the property, all holding the things he and Dean hunted at bay. Nothing could get into the property. No demons, no ghouls, no werewolves, the list went on, the simple answer was nothing could touch them there, they were safe.

He remembered the look on Dean's face when his brother had told him that they were safe there and pointed out the things that made it so. _Safe, he said it with such longing. There were tears in his eyes, he'd never admit to them, but they were there. Has he never felt safe? All these years? God, Dean, I'm sorry. _

A gentle hand closed over his. "What is it, Sam?"

He looked down at Bryn. "I was just thinking about when Dean showed me your garden, he said he was safe here."

"He is, you both are."

"But the way he said it…" Sam swallowed. "I never realized he didn't feel safe." _Why am I telling her all this? It feels weird, but it feels okay, natural even. _

"Why not?" She met his eyes, searching, it felt like she could see parts of him even he couldn't.

"I…" He paused, thinking about it. _Why not? Why did it never occur to me. _He looked at her. "I guess it's because I always felt safe." _Never thought about it, but that's true. Isn't it. Dean told me I was safe and that was enough. _

"Because of your brother?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I never really thought about it before, but yeah. Dean told me when I was little I was safe and I was. I never thought about how it was for him, you know. Never safe. He said never one moment, you know. And thinking about it now…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know." He shrugged and let his eyes drift over the gardens.

"Go out in the sun, Sam. Sit for a minute or weed. I'll come get you if Dean needs you. I'll go sit with him." She smiled at him and shoved him towards the door before she turned and walked to the bedroom.

_She shoves me around a lot. _Sam walked out the backdoor into the sun-drenched gardens. His feet carried him to the edge of the garden, a path covered in ground-hugging plants. As he walked, crushing the leaves, a rich fragrance surrounded him, mint and something that smelled almost like apples. _I should ask her what that is. _The walk was pulling the tension from his shoulders.

He stopped about halfway around the garden, suddenly realizing the twists and turns of the path were a labyrinth. _"A labyrinth can function for protection or for intention, a physical prayer as it were," _Bryn's voice said in his head, a remembered moment from the seminar years before. He continued to walk, around the edge of the garden, following the path, stopping to touch some of the plants. Recognizing them from research. _I need to see if she'll let us take some with us, these could be handy, and people would stop looking at me weird when I went into stores looking for them. Let's face it, things like true verbena officinalis and alecost are hard to find._

Finishing the walk, he sat down on the bench Dean had been sitting on the day before. _The one he got up from when he went to talk to Bryn about arrangements for after he died. Damn it Dean, what were you thinking? Calmly making arrangements like that and not letting me in on them at all? If something like this ever comes up again and you try that? I'll…I'll…I don't know, Dean. But maybe you should let me in on things now and then. _

A touch on his hand pulled him away from his musings. The cat had hopped up on the bench and was looking at him. "You need me to come with you?" The cat jumped down and walked towards the house. _That's a little unnerving._

Dean was groaning again, shifting on the bed. "Do I need to hold him again?" Sam said, walking to the head of the bed. Bryn had her hand on Dean's chest this time, her mouth was moving, Sam caught a tiny bit of…_Latin maybe?_

"Think you can manage to give it to him for a minute?" She looked at Sam.

"Yeah." _What's going on, this isn't good. _He slid onto the bed and propped Dean up against him, carefully giving Dean the medicine drop by drop. Dean was fighting hard, his body flinching from each dose.

"Sam…" Bryn said quietly when Dean had finally relaxed.

"It's not working," he said, the statement flat, harsh. _No, oh god, no. _

"It's a harder fight than I thought, it still could work."

"Can you give him another dose of the spell he took last night?"

"No," she said simply.

"Why not."

"It will kill him."

_What? No. Please no. Please tell me there is something we can do. Dean? What do I do now? _

**Present**

"Sammy?" Dean said, sudden pain pulling him back to the room, away from his brother's memories. "Sammy?" He grabbed Sam's arm and gave it a little shake. Sam was still staring back at the past, tears running down his face. "Sam!"

Sam focused on him. "What?" He brushed the tears off his face. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Dean said. _I need to get him out of here before I scream._

"What's wrong, Dean?" Sam said, looking at him.

"I just thought you should go eat or something," he said, smiling. _And I thought you might need a break from that place you were in, Sammy. Don't think I am letting it slide, just giving you a little break. _ "Send Bryn back to sit with me." _I need her, Sam. Please._

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure. Take the cat with you. Hear me, cat? Go sit with Sammy, send Bryn back." The cat looked at him and touched his face with an outstretched paw, claws out. He felt the tiniest prick in his face. "I'm okay, both of you. Go eat."

The cat hopped off the bed and walked to the door, looking back at Sam. "Are you sure, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam, we can talk more when you get back." He schooled his face as the black spot suddenly ground against his heart, sending a shaft or pure, blinding pain into his brain. _Ouch. At least wait until Sam is out of the room, okay? _It twisted again, almost in answer. He knew Sam was watching him. _Go, Sam. _

"If you're sure, Dean."

"Yeah." He grinned. "Go eat, maybe bring something back with you." Sam gave him another long look and left the room. As soon as he was gone Dean ground his teeth together as another wave of pain lashed out from the wound. _Damn. I don't have long do I? I need to talk to her now, I have to know._

"How bad is it?" A gentle hand settled on his forehead. _Hey, when did I close my eyes?_

"Bad."

"I guessed that, when both Sam and Pyewacket showed up in the kitchen."

"Stupid cat," he said. _Wow, I sound good. I'm glad I got Sam out of here._

"Drink this," she held a cup to his lips. "More slime." Then her hand was on his chest, calming the twisting of the wound. A numbing warmth was moving down from her hand.

"Before I'm out…?" _I have to know, I have to._

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you, about what happens if you can't fix this, if I die here."

"Because of the deal?"

"You know about that?" Consciousness was slipping away.

"It caused a ripple." Her voice was full of gentle irony.

"Well? If I die here, because it is protected so well—Bolted as you put it?"

"The answer is yes, Dean. If you die here, of natural causes, they can't take you."

He let himself relax, at peace. The gentle dark was reaching for him, pulling him away. He was comforted, safe.

_I know now and I was right to try and get here._

_How do I tell Sam I…? How can I tell him?_

_Now that I know…_

_It changes everything._

_**To Be Continued**_


	5. Flow, My Tears

_A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing, everyone! Thank you to beta Abni for reining in what was becoming an immense chapter. Thanks to Galen and Rob for letting me finish this. Not death fic._

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Five**

**Flow, My Tears**

The day had shifted to night, the light against his eyelids was from the lamp, not the diffused sunlight from the window. He was warm, comforted, safe. The sense of peace that had carried him into sleep was still very much with him. The pain was there, too, growing again, but for the moment he drifted on the soft warm comfort, aware but not yet awake, listening to the soft sounds around him, hushed conversation, the cat purring by his head. The room smelled of food. _Soup, maybe? And bread, fresh bread, I wonder if they'll let me have some? _

"Good soup," Sam said softly from beside the bed. _Ah ha, soup I was right._

"Thanks," Bryn said from the other. Her voice was quiet, gentle, but Dean could hear the something else there.

"I shouldn't have left earlier, when he sent me to the kitchen. I shouldn't have…" Sam said, there was a note of fear in his voice. _I wanted you to go, Sam. I needed to talk with Bryn for a minute._

"Sam, I told you it's okay, he just needed a little of the medicine, and you know it makes him sleepy." Bryn's voice was calm.

"Yeah, I know." Sam paused. "What did he talk to you about?" Sam's voice had a panicked note to it.

"Sam…"

"No, damn it, what did he talk to you about?" Sam's voice was getting louder. Dean felt the cat move and a soft growl issued from beside his head. _Oh just freaking great, the stupid cat and Sam. Fun. I think I'll go back to sleep. _

"Sam," she said again, gently. Dean thought he heard her stand.

"I have to know." The desperation in his brother's voice made Dean start to fight through the encompassing softness he was cushioned in. _Sam, it's okay, nothing bad. Everything is okay. _"Last time we were here he…he…" Sam broke off, Dean could hear tears in his brother's voice. _Sam? _"Bryn?"

"Yes, Sam?" Her voice came from the same side of the bed as Sam's that time.

"He came here to die, didn't he?"

"Yes," she said gently. _Hey, what happened to client/New Age wack job privilege?_

"Doesn't that bother you?" Sam's voice was full of tears. Dean could picture him, standing there, his eyes already red, the tears pooling in them. _I wonder if that look will work on her? The hardest heart on earth can't resist that look. Not even dad if Sam really put effort into it. I remember one time…_

"People come here to die sometimes, Sam. People who need someplace safe. It's one of the things I do. People can go in peace here."

"But…he can't…" Sam whispered.

"There's something more you need to know, Sam," Bryn said quietly. _Oh, don't tell him. Shut up. I thought we were keeping that to ourselves? Come on. _

"What?"

"It's about the deal."

"You know about that?" Sam said, incredulous. _Shut up, shut up. _

"Of course I do." She laughed a little.

"What about the deal?"

"You know my house and property are Bolted, nothing can get in."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing can get out, either Sam."

"What do you mean?" Sam sounded confused for a minute, then Dean heard him gasp. "If, if he dies here…he doesn't…?"

"Right," she said gently. "They can't take him. And it doesn't break the deal. You don't die. They can't see into here, Sam. Nothing really can."

"Oh, god," Sam said so softly Dean could barely hear him. "I can't. I can't." _Can't what, Sammy? _"What do I do?" The note in his brother's voice was finally enough to force Dean out into the world again.

"Sammy," he said without opening his eyes.

"Dean! Are you awake?"

"Talking wakes people up," Dean said, opening his eyes. Sam looked a little wild-eyed, tears had collected in his eyes. _I knew it, that look_.

"Sorry." Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"Would you like a little soup?" Bryn said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, thanks." Dean smiled as she left then turned to this brother with a little frown. "Sam? What?" _Come on, Sam, just get it over with, I've been listening to you, you know. I know what's going on in that freaky brain of yours. Maybe._

"Nothing, Dean."

"Yeah, not good enough." He pushed himself up in the bed. Dean looked at his brother, trying to get a sense of what was going on.

"Dean, I…" Sam stopped as Bryn came back in the room with a small bowl of soup and a slice of bread. She handed it to Dean with a smile.

"Thanks." He took a spoonful, letting the rich broth roll around on his tongue before swallowing.

"You're welcome. I have a little more research to do, then I'll be back."

"Sure," Dean said, smiling. She smiled at both of them and then walked quietly out of the room. Dean turned to his brother. "Sam?"

"Dean, Bryn told me."

"Yeah? What?" _See I wasn't listening at all._

"About this place, about if you…" Sam swallowed, the tears leaking down his cheeks. _God, that look kills me every time, how can I resist that look?_

"Yeah. I can stay, haunt the place, Sam. It'll be fun, I'll annoy the stupid cat…"

"And what, Dean? I stop by on holidays? Spend a little time with my dead brother?" Sam said, his voice going quiet. _Storm's brewing again. Great. I hope the room can take the blow._

"Sammy…"

"No, Dean what the hell were you thinking?"

Something snapped in Dean. "What do you think I was thinking, Sam? I wanted to be safe as I die, so I can spend time with you, without everything else that usually touches us. I want you to be safe when I die, someplace maybe you can find a little peace and if I get out of the deal after I die? Well that's just icing on the damn cake, Sam."

Sam looked a little surprised by his outburst, the hurt "why did you kick me when I was being good" look was in his eyes and on his face. "Dean, I can't please don't ask me." His brother sank down on the bed, staring at his hands.

"Don't ask you what? Sam? Does this still have to do with last time?"

"Please, I can't."

"Sammy?" he said gently, all anger gone, the need to comfort Sam overriding everything.

"Please, don't make me."

"Sam? What?" Dean was a little panicked. Sam sounded like a child who has been asked to do something terrifying.

"Don't make me choose again."

"Choose?"

"Choose to let you go. Choose whether you live or die. I can't, Dean. Please…"

"Sammy?"

"It started the second day after you took the spell. It had…" He swallowed. "It was…it had…It had been getting worse, I knew something was wrong, I…you were… but Dean you have no idea how bad…" Sam stopped himself, looking up at Dean, what Dean saw in his brother's eyes took his breath away.

"Tell me."

"I swore I wouldn't, Dean, I didn't want you to know, but I can't not anymore, I'm sorry." He sighed, his eyes begging forgiveness. "It started the second day…"

**Nine Months Earlier**

It was late, night having moved into its deepest hours. Silence reigned in the house, even the breeze had stopped. Nothing was moving. Sam would have been at peace, resting in the quiet, in the profound sense of safety the house provided, if not for Dean. His brother's motionless, silent sleep was giving way to restlessness, unnatural restlessness punctuated by soft groans of pain. Sam had been listening to it for hours before he finally dropped off to sleep sometime in the dead of night.

Sunlight woke him, filtering through the curtain. He glanced over at his brother, Dean was still out, still moving a little, groaning, his eye moving rapidly behind close lids. Sam stood and stretched and walked towards the back of the house.

The kitchen smelled of coffee, the sun was streaming in, Sam leaned against the sink and took the cup of coffee Bryn handed him. The sun was warm on his back, easing sore muscles. "How long will he be out?" he asked her.

She smiled gently. "I don't know, each case is different, each spell runs its own course."

"I guess I was kind of hoping he'd be awake this morning," Sam said, sipping his coffee. "When you treated Jess…"

"Sometimes things work that fast, not always though."

"Yeah," he said, biting back the disappointment. He took a breath to go on when a scream shattered the tranquil kitchen. "Dean!" He ran for the bedroom. Dean was still screaming when he got there. Sam put his hands on his brother's shoulders, holding him down as a spasm ran through his body. "What's happening?" he demanded.

"Sam…" He looked at her, the expression on her face was profoundly sad.

"No…" Dean moaned, writhing under his hands. "No, please no, make it stop, Sammy."

"What's happening?" he demanded again, trying to hold Dean down, trying to keep his brother from hurting himself.

"It's fighting my spell, Sam."

"Help him," he begged her.

"I can try something else, we'll see if that will help. I'll be right back." She walked out of the room. The cat came and sat in Sam's chair, watching as Sam tried to stop his brother's pained thrashing. Bryn was back a moment later, another bottle in her hands.

"What is it?" Sam said, suddenly wary. _Nothing is working, everything seems to make him worse. _

"It's related to the spell, the one for the _onflyge. _Think of it as a booster? Or like the pills you get to make the painkillers work better?"

"Please, please make it stop." Sam looked down, Dean's face was streaked with tears, his eyes opened a tiny slit.

"Dean?" _Are you awake, Dean? _

"Make it stop," the anguished plea continued.

"Do you think you can hold him long enough so I can give this to him?" Sam nodded and Bryn bent over his brother. "Dean? I need you to swallow this if you can." Her voice was firm, willing him to obey. She poured the liquid into Dean's mouth, waiting until she saw the movement in his throat. She laid a hand on Dean's chest. His brother was still fighting, but the convulsions were getting weaker, until he was nearly still. Back to groaning and the small restless movements.

"Why is this happening?" Sam asked the room, not expecting an answer.

"The _onflyge _was so far advanced, Sam." Bryn put a gentle hand on his arm, he felt the warmth from her hand travel up his arm a little, calming the slamming of his heart.

"Why can't we just give him the spell again?" He knew the answer to that as well.

"It will kill him."

"It might not," Sam said desperately. _It might not. We have to do something. I can't let this go on. Please, I have to help. Oh, god, if she can't do anything…the second dose might kill him…Dean? What do I do? What would you want?_

"It might not, yes, but in all likelihood, Sam, it will kill him. The second dose acts more as a release." She laid her hand against his face. "I will do everything I can to save Dean, but Sam it might get worse from here."

"Worse? How?" His hands were shaking. _Oh, god, no. How much worse? What's going to happen? No, please no. I'm not sure I can face that._

"It varies from case to case." Her eyes were sad. "I am so sorry. We'll take it as it goes." She smiled gently. "He'll rest for awhile, Sam, go out into the garden."

"I can't leave him, no." Sam was shaking his head. _No, I can't go._

"Sam? That's an order. Go walk the labyrinth, sit under the trees, talk to She-who-lives-in-the-Elder."

"I can't leave him." _What if he dies and I'm not here. I can't leave him alone._

"You need to go out and regroup, Sam. This is going to get bad. You need to be ready for it."

"What?" _What? When he dies? Is that what I need to be ready for?_

"It will be bad, no matter what happens now, it's going to be bad. You go out in the garden or you go to sleep for awhile. One or the other."

"I can't sleep." _How could I sleep?_

"You will, Sam. Make a choice. Garden or sleep." Her voice was suddenly hard. He understood. _Either I go out or she puts me to sleep. I can't leave him. What does she mean it's going to get bad? Dean? What do I do?_ "Sam?"

"I'll go in the garden." He walked out of the room without a backwards glance, his back tightening into a knot of tension. Sam stormed through the kitchen and out the door, slamming it behind him with a satisfying crash. He stalked out into the gardens, his angry strides taking him to the very back, under the trees that liked the fence. Reaching the fence he stopped for a moment, then vaulted over it, letting his feet carry him out into the field behind the first fence.

Halfway between the first and second fence, there was a place where the plants had been mashed down. _"See that, Sammy?" Dean's voice played in his head. "That's where deer sleep at night." "Really? Can we stay tonight and watch?" Sam had asked, the excitement of seeing real live deer had filled his six-year-old heart with glee. "I'll ask dad," Dean grinned at him. _Sam sank down onto the ground, turning and letting the tall, sweet-smelling plants block the house from view.

Sam sighed. _I'm not really sure how this will help me regroup. _A bee hummed lazily as it moved from plant to plant. A bird was calling from the trees, its song sounding like dripping water. A raptor was circling overhead, drifting on the thermals. With another sigh, Sam laid on this back, watching the hawk, the musky scent of the deer mingling with the sweet scented plants. _What did she mean it was going to get bad no matter what? Is she trying to get me ready for his death? Dean? Don't die. What do I do if it gets really bad? She needs to make another dose and have it ready. What if it kills him? Can I face that? The _onflyge _will kill him anyway. How willing am I to let him suffer through that? Can I let that happen? Oh, god, Dean what do I do? You are going to die anyway. Can I do…Can I…Dean, please help me._

The hawk had drifted off and the bird song had changed, the single drip of music had altered and become a symphony as a flock of birds settled in the field a little ways from Sam. He was still laying in the grass watching the sky, a puffy cloud came into view, something was moving in the grass, he turned his head and came face to face with a small brown bunny. It looked at him a little quizzically for a moment and then hopped off. Finally, he sat up, almost annoyed with the sense of calm that had filled his body as he lay in the field. He walked slowly back to the house.

Bryn was in the kitchen when he came in. She smiled a little and handed him a cup of soup without asking him. He sat down at the table for a minute, sipping the rich broth. "Sorry."

"It's alright, Sam. I'm sorry too."

"How is he?" He held his breath, waiting for her answer, even though he knew if something bad had happened she would have come for him.

"Still asleep, we'll go back in a minute, Pye is with him now."

"Dean and that cat." Sam shook his head and finished his soup in silence. He put the cup in the sink and walked back to Dean's room. His brother was tossing in his sleep. As Sam got closer he noticed Dean was sweating. He looked over at Bryn.

"It's beginning," she said softly. _Oh, god, no._

Sam sat back down in the chair by the bed. Dean's tossing was getting more pronounced. Sam put his hand over Dean's hoping to calm him through the contact. Dean flinched back as if the touch was painful. Sam leaned back in the chair, his head turned towards Dean.

Bryn left the room at intervals. Once to answer the phone, once to check on something in a book. She would leave him alone with Dean and then reappear half an hour later. The days slowly wound down, Dean getting worse and worse. The groans of pain were louder, his thrashing like someone trying to save themselves from drowning. At one point Bryn had pulled Dean's shirt up, a black spot was visible on Dean's chest. _Oh, my god. What's that? Is that what is causing this? Dean you've been living with that all along? Is that why…Did you feel there was no way out? _

At sunset it finally went from bad to worse. Dean started screaming in pain, begging Sam to let it stop. Delirious, talking about hunts past, nightmares, all jumbled together. Black, bloody tears ran across his face as the spot on his chest began seeping blackened blood. Sam tried talking to Dean to calm him down, sometimes his voice reached his brother, sometimes it didn't. Dean kept begging him to stop the pain, to help him. _Can I stop it? Can I face that? I can't watch this. Oh god, Dean. I think it might be better if…Can I let you go? I have to try something. I have to do something. I can't let him go on like this. Dean…_

"You have to do something," Sam said for the tenth time around midnight.

"There is nothing left to do Sam. We just have to wait."

"How long?" he snapped. "How long will he be like this?" The words had propelled him out of the chair until he was standing in front of her, towering over her. _How long, damn it?_

"Sam…"

"Tell me."

"I don't know. My spell and the _onflyge _are at war."

Realization, cold, hard. "He's dying." _Oh, please no. _

"I don't know, Sam."

"Then what?"

She swallowed. "I don't know how long it will go on anymore, Sam. It could be a long time."

"What do you mean?"

"I just don't know, Sam. Even if my spell overpowers the _onflyge, _I don't know what will happen. He could be chronically ill. It might come back. He could be…damaged."

"Damaged? How?" _Oh, god, Dean, what? _

"I don't know, Sam. This is serious, maybe the worst I have dealt with in… It's bad. If he lives."

"You don't think he will?"

She looked sad. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

Dean screamed, thrusting himself up in the bed. Sam pushed him back down. "Please, Sammy, please make it stop," Dean said, his eyes open a little, meeting Sam's begging. "Please, Sammy." He was fighting Sam's hands as he begged.

"We have to give him the spell again," Sam said. _Will it kill you, Dean? Can I do that? Oh, god if this gets worse, I think I do want that. Dean—Dean what do I do?_

"It will kill him."

"You don't know that for sure." _She's sure. She's sure it will kill him._

"Sam, I told you."

"Please, Sam, please make it stop." Black beads of sweat were running down his brother's face. "It hurts, it hurts." A convulsion rocked his body, nearly throwing Sam off.

"It's okay, Dean, it will be okay. I promise." _Oh, god I can't let this go on, can I? I have to try sometime. _"Anything is better than this," he said, feeling tears on his face. He looked up at Bryn. "Why won't you do this?"

She hesitated. "Sam, you're asking me…"

"Please, please, Sam." The plea ended in a groan.

"What?" Sam demanded, angry. _You already told me it might kill him, what? Why won't you do this?_

"You're asking me to knowingly take a life, Sam."

"It might not kill him." Dean writhed under his hands the black sweat drenching him as blood filled the shirt on his chest. _Why does that make a difference? You mean you never have?_

"Sam, I can't. I made a deal a long time ago to never purposefully take life." _Deal? What the hell does that mean?_

Dean screamed again. A wordless cry of agony. "Please, help him, anything is better than this." _Death, I think death is better than this. Forgive me, Dean. _He met her eyes. "Please. Please help him." He met her eyes. "Is there any hope at this point or will he go on like this?" The look in her eyes told him what he needed to do. _No hope. _"Make the spell. I'll give it to him, you won't be taking his life, I will." _Dean? Oh, god, Dean…_ "Please help him."

Bryn was crying, the cat had started hissing at Sam. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Come with me, Pyewacket."

"Please, Sammy, please."

"It's okay, Dean. It will be okay." Sam held him down as he thrashed. Dean was calling his name sometimes, screaming in pain the rest.

"Here," Bryn said coming back into the room a long time later. She handed him the chalice. "I'll be outside." She walked out, the cat hissed at him again and followed her out.

Sam held the cup in shaking hands. _She's sure it will kill him. _Dean cried out again. _Oh, god, Dean, what do I do? I can't let this go on, I can't. Does he die now or later in this agony? She's sure, I can tell, that her first spell won't work. He could be like this for, god, how long? Dean? What would you want me to do? _A vague memory drifted into his head of himself, trapped in a hospital in agony, and Dean promising to help him die if they couldn't figure it out. _I made him forever promise. Does that go for me? Dean?_

"NOOOOOOO. Sammy," Dean cried out then lapsed into harsh screams, convulsions wracking his body. _Oh, god, Dean. I can't let you go on like this. Anything is better, Dean. Anything. He's dying anyway. He can't go on like this. Dean? I'm sorry. You're dying, but maybe I can ease it. Dean, I don't want to lose you, but I have to do something, I have no other choice._

He propped his brother up and waited until a spasm had passed before holding the cup to his lips. "Drink, Dean. I promise it will help. I promise. Do you hear me?" Dean obeyed, even in the state he was in, Sam's words reached him. He shuddered again, moaning in pain and then suddenly relaxed, dropping down onto the bed. Sam put a hand on his brother's chest, waiting for a heartbeat, waiting for a breath. Nothing.

"Goodbye," Sam whispered. _Oh, god, what have I done? Dean? Please. I know it was the only way, but Dean, what have I done? Please. I don't even know what I am asking for. _He felt a flutter under his hand as Dean's heart took a tiny beat, his chest rose, only inches, but it was a small breath. "Dean?" _Dean, please live, please live. _He put his head into his hands for a minute before leaning back in the chair, his eyes on his brother, waiting for the moment when the poison he gave his brother would finally take him away, not noticing the tears running down his face or the shaking of his hands.

_**To Be Continued**_


	6. Exiled Forever, Let Me Mourn

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Six**

**Exiled forever, let me mourn**

The room was silent. Dean could hear the tiny hum of the light bulb in the bedside lamp. Sam was looking at his hands, tears running down his face. He seemed unaware of the fact, just as he seemed unaware his hands were shaking. _Sammy…God, Sammy. I was that bad? Will I be that bad again? Sam, I can't put you through that again. I can't, it wouldn't be fair to you._

"I can't make that decision again," Sam said quietly.

"God, Sammy, why didn't you tell me?" Dean said, looking at his brother. _Damn, why didn't you tell me? You can't walk around with things like that weighing on you._

"I gave you the spell so you could die, Dean."

"You told me that then. And I stand by what I said. I trust you with my life."

"But it's still there, and now it's worse again. It was all for nothing, I just postponed it, that's all."

"Sam…"

"Don't say it, Dean. I've been listening to that for too damn long. Don't say I just have to accept it."

"You might not have a choice, this time." _I might just die here, nothing we can do about it. And that's okay, Sam. We're safe here, our last few days—hours?—can be together. Without everything else. It's why I wanted to come here. _

"We need to talk," Bryn said, coming back into the room. "I need to do a little more research, but…"

"A little more?" Sam snapped, back in full mother bear mode. "Do you know what it is?" She looked from Sam to Dean, the bleak look in her eyes. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Sam!"

"It's okay, Dean," she said, dropping into the chair by the bed. "He's right."

"Right about…?"

"I haven't told you everything."

"What?" Sam said, his voice was suddenly calm, icy, shaking a little. The cat rose and walked over towards Sam, its fur on end. _Not again. I'm going to have to separate those two. _"What do you mean?" Sam asked quietly. Dean noticed his brother's hands were shaking a little too.

"I need to research a little to find a spell to help, but I know…" She looked at Dean, for the first time since he had met her he could sense a little desperation, even panic in her voice, in the look she cast at him.

"What?" Dean said quietly, before Sam could explode.

"It's my fault," she said, a tear slipping down one cheek.

"What?" Sam hissed, the cat answered him in the same tone.

"I'm so sorry," she said, putting her head into her hands for a minute.

"You should be." Sam was looking across the bed, fire in his eyes.

"What?" Dean said to Bryn. "What's your fault?"

She looked up at him. "What happened to you, the wound getting worse, then when it…"

"When it attacked me? Took the charm?" Dean said, watching her, still aware of his brother and the cat bristling beside him. Comprehension suddenly dawned. "It was, is, looking for you."

"What?" Sam said, calm.

"Yes, I think so," Bryn said.

"It's what you ran from, why you're here." Dean looked at her, then over at Sam. _You look like your head is about to explode, there, Sammy._

"I think so," she said again.

"Can you fix this?" Dean needed to know, not really sure of which answer he wanted.

"What is it?" Sam said in the same instant.

Bryn looked from one to the other. "I don't know if I can fix it. I need to research a little. It would have to be a two-part spell. And it's a Wight."

"Wight?" Dean said, frowning.

"Like a Barrow Wight?" Sam asked. Dean looked at him. "Tolkien, Dean?"

"I saw the movie."

"Yes, like a Barrow Wight. A little. I think he was making the wound worse to follow the spell I gave you to the charm. And then he took the charm away, hoping to force you back here so he could follow you. He can't see in here, but if you are here, he knows I am, too."

"I was bait or something?"

Bryn snorted gently at his irritated tone. "Maybe. I am so sorry. I will do my best to find an answer for you." She looked at Dean.

"Assuming I want one?"

"Yes." She smiled at them both, relief in her eyes. "I'll have something for you in a little while."

"Dean," Sam said when she had left.

"Sammy, I know. I understand. We don't even know if she can help, yet."

"Will you let her?" Sam still looked a little wild.

_I don't know, Sam. If I die, no hell. If I live, then hell's waiting. Can't we just stay here?_

"Dean?" The wound gave a twist, hard enough to force the air out of his lungs. _Damn, not so soon. _Sam noticed the change on his face. "Are you alright?"

"Not really, no." He grinned, trying to ignore the tears leaking from his eyes. _Just like pulling a nose hair out. Yipes. Not fun. And how can I hide it from Sam with stupid tears on my face?_

"Do you want me to get her?"

"Don't leave yet, Sam." _I'm not sure how long I'm going to last, actually, and want to spend a few minutes with you. _"What was that?" Something sounded like an explosion from outside. Sam rose and went to the window.

"It's the wight, I think, trying to breach the protection. Quite a light show," Sam said, looking out the window.

Dean dragged himself out of bed, over to where Sam was standing. He looked out across the dark gardens just as a bolt of something sent fiery streaks of lightning along the fence line. "Like 'Forbidden Planet'," Dean said with a smirk.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

"Looking out the window, Sam. Maybe while I'm up we can go get some coffee? You could help me to the kitchen?" He knew he couldn't make it all the way there and back, but somehow the warm kitchen was calling him, and the urge to not be in bed was getting overwhelming.

"Sure, Dean." Sam helped him down the hall and set him in a chair in the kitchen. The room was warm, the smell of food still lingering in the air. The cat came in and hopped on the table beside Dean.

"Stupid cat," he said, petting it while he watched Sam make coffee. _It will be okay. He'll be okay here after I die. I'll hang around to make sure, but he'll be okay. And haunting the stupid cat still seems like fun. _Sam put a cup of coffee down in front of him and sat across from him with his own cup.

"I'm not ready to lose you, Dean," Sam said suddenly.

_What do I say to that? You might not have a choice? I'm dying, Sam, and there might not be a way to stop it? If I want to? See that's the problem, I'm not sure I want to. No hell, Sam. Safe here and no hell._ He had grown quiet, letting the thoughts play in his head, listening to the dark spot in his chest telling him he was a dead man already. His hands were shaking, the cup seemed heavy in his hands. He closed his eyes for a minute as the room spun around him.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft, worried.

"Yeah?" His mouth tasted weird and there was something soft under his head. _In fact something soft under my whole body. When did I get back to bed?_

"How do you feel?"

Dean opened his eyes. _Yep, bedroom. What happened? _His brother looked very worried. _What's wrong, Sammy? Passing out in the kitchen doesn't deserve that look does it?_ "Like owls nested in my mouth."

Sam laughed a little at that. It sounded kind of like a sob. "Owls? We gave you some of the medicine again. Bryn thinks she has an idea of how to treat the wound the wight gave you."

"How?" _I don't like that look. That's the "determined to save me no matter how suicidal look" he gets sometimes. I bet I look like that sometimes, too. Hmm. Never thought about that. _

"I need to get the blade, then she can make a spell to break the wound, at least that part."

"No. No, you are not going after that thing, Sam."

"It's the only way, Dean."

"You can let me die," Dean said gently. _Sam, you might get killed and how does that make anything better?_

"No, not yet, Dean. Not yet. Let me try this."

"You don't even know if it will work, or if she can fix the other thing." _Sammy, no, are you hearing me? No, I am saying no._

"I am going to do this, Dean. You have to let me try. Please."

"Sam…" Dean paused. _How much can I tell him? Will it change anything? Will he still leave me? Sam…Sam, you see…_

"What?"

"I don't want to die alone, Sammy. Please."

"I'll be back, Dean."

"I don't think I have all that long." _And you might get yourself killed, Sam._

"I'll be back, Dean. It won't take long, I'm just going out to the fence and asking him for the blade."

"Well, that sounds easy." _Yeah, easy. Really easy. No, Sam. You can't, don't leave. _"Take the Colt."

"I can't, Dean," Sam said, looking away. _Sammy?_

"Why not?"

"I can't kill it. If it dies, I guess the blade dies too and Bryn can't use it."

"The knife dies?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "The freaking knife dies?"

"That's what Bryn said. She gave me something to wound the wight, an arrow." Sam had a funny smile on his face. _Cause you know what I'm going to say, don't you Sammy?_

"A magical arrow? Do you have the magical bow, too?"

"I was going to use one of ours, Dean."

"Sammy…" _This is nuts, no, no just stay, let me go. Be with me._

"I have to try, Dean. I'd use a dart gun, but she doesn't think a dart will work, it needs a bronze tip."

"A magical, bronze-tipped arrow? No, Sam." _No, I said no, hear the no?_

"I have to try. Please." The desperation in Sam's eyes touched him. _I would have to try, too, I would never just let him go. I wouldn't no matter how much he wanted it. I would try everything before that happened._

Dean took a deep breath. "Sam…Alright, go, but hurry back, please?" _Please, Sam?_

"I won't let you die alone."

"Promise me, Sam?"

"Promise, Dean."

_This is harder on him than me. I'm ready, I want to rest, I want peace. He has to try and save me. How can I help a little? There's always deflect the chick flick. _He'd never know what made him say it, some memory of some bad movie watched late on a sleepless night. He grinned at his brother. "Pinkie swear?" He held out his hand.

"What?" Sam rolled his eyes, then smiled, accepting the gesture for what it was. "Pinkie swear." He caught Dean's pinkie in his. "I'll be right back."

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said, looking down the bed at the cat. "Will you go with Sam for me?" The cat hopped of the bed and waited at the door. "Don't be too long."

"I won't, Dean." His brother gave his arm a quick squeeze. "I have the stupid cat to help." The cat hissed at him.

"I think I'm the only one who gets to call him that."

"Fine, let's go Pyewacket," Sam smiled at him.

"Be careful, Sam."

"I will Dean, get some sleep while I'm gone okay?"

"Sure, Sam."

**XXX**

Sam walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. He'd left the bow and the arrows Bryn had given him there. She was waiting there as well, quiet, a concerned smile on her face. The cat hopped onto the table, she ran her hands over it and smiled, first at the cat and then at Sam. "Pyewacket is going with you."

"Yeah, Dean asked him to," Sam said with a shake of his head. _The cat disturbs me sometimes. _

"Good, he can help." She walked over and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the now familiar warmth flowing out from the touch and into his body. "Are you sure you want to try this?"

"I have to. I don't have a choice." He looked at her, meeting her eyes. "I have to try. I understand, but I have to try."

"I understand, too, Sam. I really do," she said a little sadly. "And I will do everything I can to make this right. I am so sorry."

"Thank you." Sam looked at her. "Can you keep him here until I get back?" _Yes, I know what I'm asking. I know what I just asked you to do. _"I promised him I wouldn't let him die alone."

"I can keep him here. He should be okay for awhile, but if not, I can keep him here for you." She sighed. "Not for long, but long enough. I give you my word."

"Thank you," he repeated. Sam picked up the bow and arrows, a sense of calm well-being warming his body. "You ready?" he said to the cat, then laughed at himself a little. _Dean will laugh for days about that. Dean? Be around for days to laugh at me. _He walked out the back door and closed it behind him, giving it a little slam to let Dean know he'd left.

It was cold, his breath visible in the air. The lightning was streaking along the outer fence line, he could hear it crackling and fizzing as he moved through the dark garden. The cat slipped under the first fence as Sam jumped over it, landing lightly on the other side. _She said I can't shoot through the protection of the second fence. I have to go over. I need to be careful, I have to get this to save Dean. Of course, if I don't get it, if I die, he dies there, safe and no hell. No, Dean, not yet. You have time left, I will find another way. A way for you to be here with me. Not as a ghost driving the poor cat insane, but here, physically._

He walked through the field towards the outer fence, the dead grass wet with dew, sticking to his shoes and pant's legs. _I can't let him die, not yet. I can't. What if she can't help him? Dean did you know that when you came? Did you talk to her? Is there no way to save you? No, I'm here and she said this might work. It has to. _He reached the outer fence and paused. The wight was just at the edge of the small forest that bordered Bryn's land. Sam jumped over the fence, the cat went under.

The wight stopped its probing of the fence and turned to face him. "Come to play?"

"Not really," Sam said, notching an arrow in the bow. The wight dove at him, knocking him down, the arrow dropping from his hand. He thought he felt something in his arm, then shoved the wight away, reaching for the other arrow. The creature came at him again as he struggled to sit up. It had the knife out. Sam tried to get the other arrow notched when suddenly the wight was down on the ground, its knife dropping into the grass, Pyewacket, fur all on end, standing on its back. Sam grabbed the knife and stood. The wight grabbed his ankle and he fell, but he was up again and dashing for the outer fence a few seconds later. The cat was right behind him and then they were inside the fence. Sam heard the wight shriek in fury. A bolt of lightning slammed against the outer fence, an odd creaking noise filling the air. He kept going, not sure how strong the outer fence was. The cat slid under the inner fence and Sam leapt over, on the way over he caught his foot and went down hard, stars dancing briefly before everything was dark.

**XXX**

Dean let his eyes close as his brother walked out of the room. When he heard the back door slam he dragged himself out of bed and over to the window. _Hey, I made it, I wonder if that means I'm a little better? _He watched the dark shape of his brother as he moved across the gardens to where the sprays of lightning were dancing over the outer fence. He saw Sam jump easily over one fence and then the second. Dean stood, staring into the night, seeing flashes of two shapes moving outside the light, out in the woods that bordered the property. _Be careful, Sam. _The lightning suddenly stopped. Dean saw the tall figure of his brother running for the fence, he was over and moving to the second fence when something hit the area out beyond the fences hard, the flash of electricity moving along the length of the fence line. _Just like "Forbidden Planet". Monsters from the Id. Sadly no Anne Francis bathing nude in the pool. _

He realized that Sam wasn't moving through the gardens. Dean managed to get himself down the hall and out the door. Sam had made it over the inner fence, Dean could make out the dark outline of his brother's body on the ground. He forced himself over. The cat was sitting beside Sam, licking his face.

"Sammy?" He shook his brother. Sam groaned a little. "Stupid cat. Sammy?"

"Dean? What's wrong with my face?" Sam said, opening his eyes.

"The cat is cleaning your wounds," he said, laughing at the look in his brother's eyes.

"Gross," Sam said, trying to sit up. His eyes focused on Dean. "What are you doing out here?"

_What do you think, Sam? I saw you fall and I came? What the hell do you think? _"What happened? Are you hurt?"

Sam gave a small embarrassed laugh. "I caught my foot on the way over the fence." He sat up, absently patting the cat.

_Good job, Sam. You deserved the cat first-aid for scaring me like that. _"Did you get it?"

"Yeah," Sam said, brushing blood off his face. He held up the glowing blade.

"Cool." Dean reached out for the blade.

"No, Dean, stop," Bryn called from behind him. Sam snatched the blade away, Dean's hand never came into contact with it. At least he was sure it hadn't. He was suddenly falling, darkness exploding out from the thing on his chest, radiating up the arm that had reached for the knife.

"Dean!" Sam caught him.

"Cold, Sammy," he said into the dark.

"Hang on, I'll get you inside." He felt himself lifted, he felt the change in the air as Sam carried him into the house. He was aware of the bed under him and Bryn's hand on his chest, warmth flowing out from it, driving the cold away.

"Sleep, Dean, it's okay," Sam's voice said in the void. _I am sleepy, Sam. _"I'll be here," Sam said quietly.

"Promise?" he managed to whisper.

"Yeah, I pinkie swore remember?" Sam said. "Can you help him?"

"I have the blade, I'll do my best."

"Sam?" _Sam, if it doesn't work, let me go. _

"It's okay, Dean. I know. I promise, not alone."

"Sam?" He hardly heard his voice that time. The dark was pulling him away as the pain rose against his chest.

"I promise that, too, Dean."

He sighed as his brother's hand closed over his, letting the dark take him, relaxing into the pain-free void.

The hand was still there, warm, comforting, as he came slowly awake. _How long was I out, I wonder? _The cat was on the bed, he could feel a soft paw resting against his face. _Stupid cat. _ _They gave me something again. Why does it all have to taste so bad? Can't they cover it with chocolate like Miracle Max?_

"Sam?"

"Dean, are you awake?"

"Yep." He opened his eyes. "Have you slept?" _Because you look terrible._

"Not yet, I was waiting to see what Bryn could do first." Sam sighed. "I went back to see how it was going when the cat showed up. She is having a hard time with it."

"It's okay, Sam." _Sam? You look terrible, what's going on?_

"No, Dean, no it's not." His eyes filled with tears. "No."

"Sam, this might have to happen. And Sammy, no hell." He heard the longing note in his own voice.

"Dean, please don't make me choose."

"I won't." _My choice, Sam. Even if she finds an answer I'm still not sure what the choice will be. No hell, Sam. And you don't die and you can be here, safe. I'm tired, Sammy. I've told you that, maybe you don't understand, but I can't keep going sometimes. I think I want this. I need this._

"It's more than just live or die, Dean, the choice. It's, god…"

"Yeah, die and save my soul, save my life and lose my soul."

"Dean, please, give me a little more time to save you. I can, please."

"There might not be a choice anyway. She might not be able to fix this. I might die before she can. I don't have long, Sammy."

"I know." Sam looked at him.

"And Sammy, saving me? Saving my soul? It can happen here." Dean met his eyes, pleading a little.

"I'm not ready to lose you, Dean. I can't."

"Sam…"

"No."

"Sam, please."

"No, Dean. We have to wait for Bryn. At least that long."

"If I can, Sam. I'll wait."

"For me."

_Unfair, Sammy. _"Okay." _Unfair. I want to rest, Sam. Peace. NO HELL. Sam, don't you see? _"I'll wait."

Sam settled on the bed beside him. "Dean, if…"

"Promise?" _You asked me once for this, Sam. You made me promise. And there was no hell involved that time._

Sam took a deep breath, "Oh, god, Dean." Sam looked at him for a long moment. "Yeah, I promise."

The sat together, waiting, each silent, each lost in thought. The cat left, disappearing into the dark hallway.

_If she comes back with an answer what will I do? Sam? Will you be ready to let me go? _He sighed and leaned a little against Sam and waited.They had been silent together for a long time when Sam chuckled beside him, a soft sound, a little tear-filled, but a chuckle nonetheless. "What?" Dean said.

"I don't know why I thought of it, but remember the first time I got really drunk?" Sam asked, looking over, a small smile on his face.

_I know why you thought of it, I remember what happened right before that. You thought I had been killed, but you saved my life, I remember you kept saying "I thought you were dead." And you went back to the room and when I came in you were already well on the way to drunk._ "Yeah, I remember."

"You sat down and drank with me, although I don't think you were drunk?"

"Maybe a little, Sam." He smiled at his brother, the memory of sixteen-year-old Sam drunk, chattering away, playing in his head. "Not much, though."

"I remember waking up the next morning with this headache. But I was in bed and my shoes were off. You came in a little later with coffee and aspirin, and you were very quiet until it kicked in. I remember feeling, I don't know." He looked away.

"What, Sam?" Dean said.

"It was one of those times when I felt safe, Dean, protected." Sam sighed. "I…" He stopped himself, absently rubbing his arm.

"Sam?" Dean was watching his brother. _Something's wrong. _"What's wrong?"

Sam smiled, it was a sad, sad smile. "Nothing, Dean."

The cat wandered back in and walked up the bed, first peering at Sam and then coming to sit beside Dean. Bryn came in a few moments later with a tray, the silver chalice and a crystal one with blood-red liquid in it, on the tray. She set the tray one the bedside table and smiled gently at them.

"That the answer?" Dean asked, looking at the cups.

"It might be. The silver one is for the old wound, similar, but not the same as the first spell for the _onflyge, _since it needs to be able to work with the spell for the damage the wight did."

"Will it work?" Sam said, hope and fear in his voice.

"I don't know."

"If it doesn't…Will I wake up?" Dean looked at her, meeting her eyes. _And which would be easier for Sam? Waking up or just dying?_

"I don't know."

Dean looked at Sam. _What do I do? If I die, no hell, Sammy. No hell. I can stay here. _"Sam?"

"I…I…" Tears pooled in his brother's eyes. "Please."

Dean sighed. "Okay, let's try it." He felt Sam's hand close convulsively on his arm.

"It's two parts, you take the first and then we wait for seven minutes before you take the other. You'll probably be most of the way under by then, just aware enough to drink the second part."

"There's more," Dean said with certainty.

"The second part, as it works with the wound, it might be a little rough." She was looking at Sam as she said it. Dean saw his brother pale.

"How rough?" Sam whispered.

"It's been awhile since I dealt with this personally. But…you should be prepared."

"Let's just do it," Dean snapped. _The longer we wait, the more my resolve slips. No hell, Sam, do you know what that's like? Giving that up? _He reached a shaking hand for the silver cup before either could stop him and drank it in one gulp.

"Dean!"

"Sorry, couldn't wait." _I was losing my nerve suddenly, Sam. Sorry, but if we are going to do this, I have to do it now, before…No hell, Sam._ _Oh, god, no hell. I had to do it before I couldn't. I will fight for you, but Sam… _It was already affecting him, the room was getting hazy at the edges. It felt a little familiar, a light floating sensation. His body felt light, disconnected a little from his brain. His eyes closed. He was aware of Sam's hand on his arm. They were talking quietly, Sam and Bryn, the cat was a heavy weight beside his head. _How long has it been? _The thought formed and drifted lazily across his mind like clouds on a summer day.

Suddenly his head was lifted, something cold and hard was against his lips. "Drink, Dean," Sam's voice ordered gently. He obeyed, the liquid sliding down his throat, he could feel it as it moved outwards through his body, warming, streams of light streaking through him, until it reached the wound. The light hit the dark spot like a truck running into a wall. His body reacted, he thought he felt it a little, he was a long way from his body. Sam's hand was still there, warm, against his arm.

_I wonder what she meant by rough? Should I have done it? What about Sam? No, Sam would want me to try, no matter how rough. He wants me to make it out of here. No hell, Sam. I could still die, I guess. Sam? I trust you. What's that?_ It sounded like a harsh voice, crying out in pain. _Sam? Are you okay? _The cry went on. _Sam?_

"No!" the pain filled voice screamed. _Sammy? Are you okay?_

"Dean, relax, let the spell work, let it take you. Stop fighting it. Please, Dean, give it a chance," Sam's voice, calm, an edge of panic, of fear very much there.

_Fighting it? I thought I was giving it a chance. _The voice cried out again. _Is that me? Oh, god, Sammy, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that again. I…You're right, I was fighting it. I'm sorry, Sam. I'll try and give it a chance. _

He let go.

He let go of everything—his body, his mind, the gently intoxicating promise of escaping hell. He let it all go and listened to Sam.

The spell took him into the dark.

_**To Be Continued**_


	7. There Let Me Live Forlorn

_A/N: I've backed this up a little to Sam's POV for the moments just before Dean takes the spell from Bryn. Huge thanks to a very patient beta, Abni, for putting up with a more than little grembling. For those of you interested in what's keeping me from fanfic, the first chapter of my (new) novel is up on my website._

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Seven**

**There Let Me Live Forlorn**

The room was quiet, the single lamp casting a golden glow in the room. The cat had wandered out and down the hall some minutes before. Sam was leaning against his brother. He would occasionally glance at Dean—his brother seemed to be lost in thought. _If she comes back with an answer what will he do? Will he take it? Dean? Please, I'm not ready yet, the year isn't over, I need more time to figure this out. Am I being selfish? He can escape hell if he dies here. Is it right to ask him to give that up? Was I right to ask? _He sighed. _What can I do? What will I do? _Unbidden an image unraveled in his mind, he chuckled a little at the memory. He'd been sixteen and had gotten drunk, really drunk for the first time. _I thought he was dead. I… when I thought he was gone…I…but he was okay and it was a little too much, the relief, the fear…So I got out the bottle and…_

"What?" Dean said, looking over at him.

"I don't know why I thought of it, but remember the first time I got really drunk?"

Dean smiled and chuckled a little with him "Yeah, I remember."

"You sat down and drank with me, although I don't think you were drunk?" _Of course, even then you could drink a lot without showing it. But you didn't drink much, you just didn't want me to be alone._

"Maybe a little, Sam. Not much, though," Dean said with a fond smile on his face. Sam recognized it, it was the smile reserved only for him.

"I remember waking up the next morning with this headache. But I was in bed and my shoes were off. You came in a little later with coffee and aspirin, and you were very quiet until it kicked in. I remember feeling, I don't know…" _I remember feeling safe, Dean. I woke up with my head pounding, still a little afraid about what had happened and you were there, like always, making it better. I never really thought about what that meant to me, Dean. I'm sorry about that. My whole life, safe, protected and it was all because of you. _

"What, Sam?" Dean said.

"It was one of those times when I felt safe, Dean, protected." Sam sighed. "I…" _I better stop before I say something…_He rubbed his arm where the wight's blade had wounded him. The ache was beginning to creep up his arm. _I'll have Bryn take care of it as soon as Dean…_

"Sam? What's wrong?" Dean was looking at him, a little frown on his face. _He knows something is wrong. I can't let him know, if he knows it got me he might wait to make sure I'm okay, he might wait until it is too late._

"Nothing, Dean." Sam smiled, wondering if his brother noticed anything in the smile.

The cat came back into the room and hopped on the bed. It wandered up the bed and along Sam's legs, standing on his chest it peered into his eyes for a minute before checking on Dean and sitting down. Sam shook his head. _Dean and that cat, I'm sure if it could talk it would have ratted me out. _Bryn came in carrying a tray with two cups on it.

"That the answer?" Dean asked, Sam heard the dubious tone in his brother's voice.

"It might be. The silver one is for the old wound, similar, but not the same as the first spell for the _onflyge, _since it needs to be able to work with the spell for the damage the wight did," Bryn said softly.

"Will it work?" Sam said. _It has to work, it has to. I need more time. Please, Dean._

"I don't know," she said.

"If it doesn't…Will I wake up?"

"I don't know."

Dean looked at Sam. Meeting his eyes. Sam could see the questions there, the uncertainty. "Sam?"

"I…I…" Tears pooled in Sam's eyes. _Is it fair to ask for this? Dean, I'm sorry, I can't, not yet. _"Please." _Please, Dean, please give it a chance. I…I…_

"Okay." Dean sighed. "Let's try it." Sam grabbed his brother's arm. _Thank you, Dean, thank you. _

"It's two parts, you take the first and then we wait for seven minutes before you take the other. You'll probably be most of the way under by then, just aware enough to drink the second part."

"There's more," Dean said.

"The second part, as it works with the wound, it might be a little rough." Bryn met Sam's eyes. _Rough? Oh, god, how rough? What does that mean? Will it be like before? Will I have to face…Oh, god…_

"How rough?" Sam whispered.

"It's been awhile since I dealt with this personally. But…you should be prepared."

"Let's just do it," Dean snapped. Sam glanced over at him. _Dean? _His brother reached for the cup and drank the liquid before Sam even realized what Dean was doing.

"Dean!"

"Sorry, couldn't wait," Dean said with a little half smile.

_Thank you, Dean. _Sam watched as his brother's eyes closed, Dean's body slowly relaxing as the spell began to work in his body. "How long until the other?" Sam asked Bryn.

"Seven minutes from the first," she said, looking at him. "Sam, I still don't know if this will work."

"It has to," Sam said. _It has to, I can't lose him yet. Was it wrong to ask him to stay? Am I selfish for asking? I can't face it without him, not yet. _

"Sam…" She put a gentle hand on Sam's arm. "Sam?" Bryn frowned and ran her hand up his arm, stopping over the spot where the wight's blade had slid into his arm.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "As soon as Dean gets the second dose."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice had an urgency to it.

"I needed to be with Dean." He shrugged. _I couldn't leave him, not when…oh, god, not when it might be the last time I could talk with him. I…Dean, please. Please come through this. I'm not ready. I can't make it…_

"Time," she said, reaching for the other cup.

"I'll do it." Sam picked up the cup and gently lifted Dean's head. "Drink, Dean," he said, placing the cup against his brother's lips. Dean obeyed and swallowed the liquid. Sam set him carefully back on the pillows and smoothed the blankets over his brother. He looked up and smiled at Bryn. "Just a minute more." He rubbed his arm, the ache was rapidly becoming pain.

Dean screamed. The sound was harsh, pain-soaked, his body arching as he fought against the pain.

"What's happening?" Sam put his hands on his brother's shoulders, holding him down as Dean screamed "NO!" the sound coming out in an agonized crescendo.

Bryn put her hand on Dean's chest. "He's fighting the spell. If he doesn't let it work, this will kill him."

_Why are you fighting it, Dean? Please, please give it a chance. Is it wrong to ask? Should I let him…Is he fighting it because he doesn't realize…? He always fights, never gives in, he has to give in to this. _"Dean, relax, let the spell work, let it take you. Stop fighting it. Please, Dean, give it a chance." The tears were running down his face as Dean tensed beneath his hands. He thought he heard his brother sigh, thought he heard a tiny, nearly breathless "Sammy," and then Dean listened, he relaxed, his body released its tension. Sam left his hands on his brother's shoulders, waiting agonizingly long seconds before Dean took a breath, a shallow short breath, but a breath, and then long seconds later another.

"Sam?" He felt Bryn's hand on his back. "Come with me."

"No, I need to stay." The pain in his arm was becoming unbearable. _I have to stay. What if he dies? I promised, Bryn, I promised him I wouldn't let him die alone. Would he know I wasn't here? Sometimes I think I remember dying, sometimes I think I remember him. He was there, with me, I think. How can I not be there for him? How can I leave him alone? I think that's one of the few things he's afraid of, dying alone. I…_

"Pyewacket will sit with Dean, let me take care of that before it gets out of control." She gently pulled his hands off of Dean's shoulder and led him through the house to her study. She pushed him into a chair by the large table. "Take off that shirt so I can look at your arm."

"You said it was going to be rough, I need to get back to him," Sam said, pushing himself out of the chair. A wave of pain, of nausea knocked him back into the chair. _My god, Dean. Is this what…Oh, god…_

"Sam, if I don't take care of this you won't be sitting with Dean at all. Do you want him to wake up and find you dead? What do you think he'd do?"

_He'd…He'd…_Sam sighed, knowing exactly what Dean would do. He slid the long-sleeved shirt off and looked down at his arm. There was a black mark where the blade had gone in. "Will it get like Dean's?" _It can't. I have to sit with him, I need to be there if something happens. _

She was gathering things off of the shelf at the back of the room. "Not if you let me take care of it now." Her voice was gentle.

"How rough will it get?" Sam asked again. "Will he…"

"I don't know, Sam. I don't, it has been a long time since I have dealt with this kind of thing." She sighed, placing the items she had gathered on the table beside him. "Wounds like Dean's, like this one of yours, are rare these days. So, I'm not really sure how it will be, and every wound is different, every spell is different." She sounded weary, sad. "I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you more."

Bryn took his arm and smeared a greenish-gray paste on the black mark, pain lanced out from the touch of the medicine. Sam ground his teeth together but couldn't stop the cry that escaped his lips. _Dean lived with this for how long? Was the scar like this? Did it…was he…everyday? Was the first wound…_She was trying to be gentle but a particularly painful moment caused Sam to lash out, knocking her down. "Oh, god, I'm sorry," he said, trying to stand to help her up. Dizziness kept him in the chair. _I have to get back to Dean. _She laughed gently, and stood. Bryn carefully bandaged the wound and then wrote on the bandage. Sam looked down at the odd script.

"Runes?"

"A few, some other things too," she said, smiling.

"Dean thinks you're a witch," Sam said through clenched teeth.

"And you don't?" She laughed and patted his cheek. "Sam…"

"Are you?"

"Of course I am," she said with gently irony in her voice.

"But witches…" Pages of his father's journal played before his eyes. _"Witches, Sammy, never mix with witches, they are no good and nothing good ever comes of them. They are the devil's bride," he remembered his father saying when he was about thirteen._

"Not all witches, Sam. Most, perhaps, but not all. I'm a little different than even most witches." She laughed. "A little different." She poured a purple liquid into a chalice sitting on the tables and sang softly over it for a moment. "You need to drink this."

"Will I go to sleep?"

"Yes, the spell is…"

"Designed to put the sufferer to sleep so that the magic and the herbs can work unhindered by the conscious mind," Sam finished for her. She smiled. "I remember those seminars."

"Nice to know someone did," she said with a laugh.

"Let me go back in and sit with Dean." She frowned at him. "I'll take it there, I just…"

"Sure." She set the glass down and helped him to his feet. He realized he was leaning on her as she helped him back to the big bedroom. He sank down in the chair by the bed. Bryn left and came back with the cup, he drank the liquid and leaned back into the chair, letting his head rest on the back.

"Was I right?" He heard himself asking her.

"Right?"

"To ask Dean to take the spell. He could have escaped hell," Sam said. _I'm starting to sound a little drunk. _"And I asked him to stay. I hate that he wants to die." He felt tears in his eyes as the room slowly revolved around him.

"I'm not sure that he wants to die, Sam…"

"No, I thought he wanted to live, but he doesn't, he wants to die." Sam said, the words thick and bitter.

"I don't think that's it at all, Sam. I just think that … Well, he was dying when he came here, not at the end of the year, but imminently. And he wanted to be safe, wanted you to be safe. He wanted to…"

"Not go to hell," Sam said, barely recognizing his own voice. "And I asked him to give that up for me." His eyes closed. "Was I wrong?" He felt a blanket pulled over him. "I'm sorry, Dean." As consciousness slipped away the memory of himself, waiting for Dean to wake nine months before, was playing gently in his mind. "I'm sorry."

**Nine Months Earlier**

The soft warm wind was wafting gently through the window, the scent of the garden filling the room. Sunlight lit the bed, turning the quilt into a kaleidoscope of colors. Sam hadn't moved, he was sitting in the same spot, his hand around his brother's, waiting. Only, Dean hadn't moved, he was barely breathing. Every breath seemed labored and Sam held his own breath with each inhale, waiting for his brother to die. _I did this. I gave him that and now…to late too go back Sam. I thought it would help, I thought he would either get better or go. Dean? I…I don't want you to go, I don't want you to leave. I won't leave, not till we know what's happening._

And he hadn't. He'd stayed by the bed, despite Bryn's urgings to eat, to go into the garden, to sit in the bright kitchen. No, Sam had stayed. Waiting. He wasn't alone, the cat had stayed as well, sitting by Dean, occasionally shifting from one end of the bed to the other, but staying there with Sam, with Dean.

The day had moved into evening. _How many days have I been sitting here? One? Two? I'm not sure anymore. I thought…I thought I would know one way or the other by now. Waiting is hard. So damn hard, Dean. The not knowing… Sometimes I think the waiting will kill me and other times I think the hope will. I keep hoping, but nothing changes. Dean? I'm tired of waiting. Please. _The scent of food came into the room, Bryn was cooking. _She seems to cook when she's upset. Interesting. I think she was making jam yesterday. And always fresh bread. I wonder if when I smell it I'll always remember this? These hours? _

Dean sighed.

Sam looked down, his brother shifted a tiny bit in the bed, snuggling into the pillows a little. He sighed again, a deep breath followed by a little snore. The cat bounded off the bed and tore out the door, a minute later Bryn came into the room. She smiled a little at Sam and then looked at Dean, laying her hand on his chest, her smile slowly widened, Sam saw her shoulders sag for just an instant before she turned to him with eyes bright with unshed tears. Sam held his breath.

"He made it," she said softly.

"What?" Sam said in a voice that was barely a whisper. She was suddenly blurry as tears filled his eyes as well.

"He made it," she repeated.

Sam dropped his head into his hands, trembling, the tears flowing from his eyes. She put a gentle arm around his shoulders as he sat there for a moment, trying to get control of the emotions rushing through his body. _He made it? How? I thought…oh, god, I thought I had killed him and he made it? Dean? I…how can I ever tell you…I'm not sure I can. Oh, god, Dean you made it. She just said you're going to live. _

"Sam?" Bryn said. She gave his shoulder a little shake.

"What?"

"I said will you eat now? Maybe go out into the garden? Just for a few minutes, but go take care of yourself for a minute or two. Take a nice hot shower. Sam, he's going to be okay."

"Thank you," Sam said, standing. _A shower does sound nice, maybe just a moment outside, and I should eat something. Dean will give me hell for not eating if he finds out after he wakes up. _Sam paused on the way out the door as the thought caught up with him. _After he wakes up, he's going to wake up! _

He stood in the shower until the water had cooled and then was running cold. After the shower he wandered out into the garden. It was warm, the rich scents of the soil mingled with the sweeter tones of the flowers. He sank down in the spot he'd been weeding several days before, where he and Dean had spent the afternoon, talking. Sam had been surprised once or twice during that conversation. Dean was open, remembering their childhood, talking about hunts to come. _He's a different person here. He's more…I'm not sure of the word, but he's different here. I never realized what it meant, being safe. How can I make that up to him? _

The cat appeared, followed a moment later by Bryn. She smiled at Sam and handed him a mug of soup before sitting on the bench. "The snoring drove us out," she said with a little laugh.

Sam smiled. "He can snore." He watched a bird hop along the branch of a tree in search of bugs, its call sounding almost like a giggle. "Will he be alright now?" _I don't want to know, really, but…_

"Sam," she said gently, a little sadness in her voice. "I think so, I don't know."

The cup dropped from his hand. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"As long as he wakes up…"

Anger suddenly curled its way out of his chest. "What? I thought you said he made it?"

"I did, and I'm…" She looked at him. "I'm a little unsure…"

"Why?" He was on his feet, towering over her, the cat was on the bench beside her, hissing at him, fluffed to nearly twice its usual size.

"Sam, no one ever has."

"Ever has what?"

"Lived."

"What?" Sam said, trying to hold onto his anger, but her distress was beginning to affect him. _What do you mean? Why didn't you say something? _He grasped desperately at the anger, trying to quench the fear that had suddenly blazed up in his chest.

"No one, ever, Sam. No one in all the…no one has lived through the second dose. It's supposed to kill, it's supposed to…I thought…" She put her head into her hands, crying softly. Sam made a move to put his hand on her shoulder and the cat swiped at him, drawing blood.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and left her in the garden, her soft sobs a poignant counterpoint to the giggles of the bird.

Sam walked back to the bedroom and dropped into the chair. _She thought it would kill him, I did too, and it didn't. I guess I didn't realize what I had asked her to do. If I had, would it have changed anything? No. I wonder if Dean realizes what I will do for him? The lengths I am willing to go? I…_ He took Dean's hand in his. _He'll kill me when he wakes up. _Sam sighed. _When…_Exhaustion finally caught up with him and he dropped into a soft, dreamless sleep.

Light on his eyelids woke him, the sun was bright and warm against his face. He shifted a tiny bit in the chair, trying to get comfortable, but as large as the chair was, it was not designed for sleeping. Sam was drifting comfortably, not quite awake, caught in a lovely limbo of comfort and warmth when the hand in his tightened. Sam opened his eyes and looked over at his brother. Dean's eyes were open and he had a small smile on his face. "Dean?"

"Hey, Sam." Dean's voice was raspy and weak.

"Hey," Sam smiled at him. _He's awake, he's alive. He made it. I think he made it._ "How do you feel?"

"Better, I think, still tired." Dean took a deep breath. "Yeah, better." He smiled at Sam. "What time is it?"

"It's still morning, I think." Sam glanced out the window, the light still had the look of morning.

"You don't look so good, Sammy. What's wrong? Are you okay?" Dean said frowning at him.

"What? What do you mean what's wrong? What do you think?" _Let's see Dean, you were dying, I tried to kill you. I waited for you to die. I wonder what's wrong?_

"I'm fine, Sam, feeling better and better."

"You're fine, Dean? Yeah, fine." Sam said. _Yeah, Dean, fine. Did you notice that you're still holding my hand? Huh, Dean? _

"I told you it would be okay," Dean said. Sam recognized the tone, it was the "uh, ignore everything that just happened, it's all okay" tone.

"I think you said you were dying." Sam wasn't in the mood to play.

"Sam…I…" Dean stopped himself, swallowing a little. "Morning, huh? Have you eaten yet?"

"Eaten?" _What the hell are you talking about Dean?_

"Yeah, breakfast? Most important meal of the day?" Dean's voice was rapidly losing volume.

"What are you talking about, Dean?" _Dean? Are you insane?_

"Have you eaten? Breakfast? Didn't you say it was morning? Sam?" When Sam didn't answer he frowned. "Sammy?"

"Why exactly are we talking about breakfast?"

"I wanted to know if you'd eaten yet. I figure you were probably sitting here all night, I just wanted to make sure…"

_Well, that explains that. He thinks it was last night. Sorry, Dean, not last night. It was five days, Dean, five. I checked. I ate, once or twice at least, not much, everything I ate came right back up. That whole killing you thing was weighing on me a little._ "Don't worry about it Dean, I've been eating."

"What, all night?"

Sam smiled a little, he knew the smile probably looked tired and sad. _No, Dean not all night_. He gripped Dean's hand a little tighter. "It's been a little longer than all night, Dean."

"You said it was morning." Dean was frowning.

"It is morning." _Five days later, Dean._

"Okay? It wasn't last night? Is there anything to drink?"

"Sure," Sam let go of his hand and grabbed a glass of water from the table by the bed. _I should have offered it to him before this. I shouldn't have waited for him to ask. I'm so sorry, Dean. I better get a hold of myself before I just fall to pieces in front of him. He might figure out something is wrong then. _He slid his arm behind Dean and gently lifted him up. He helped Dean take a sip. "Do you want to sit up a little more?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Sammy."

"Yeah, Dean."

"Well?" Dean was peering at him with his particularly annoying "we need to talk about something, don't we, Sammy" look.

"Well? Well, what?" _Not ready to talk Dean, just let it drop. Please, I'm not all put together yet._

Dean smiled at him. "Nothing." The cat got up and climbed over Dean to look in his eyes for a minute before hopping off the bed. "Stupid cat." Sam noticed Dean's voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Probably went to tell her you're awake. I think he might be a familiar," Sam said with a smile.

"Told you." Dean was smirking.

"Yeah, you did." _Oh, god, Dean…_.

"Am I going to make it, Sammy?" Dean said jokingly.

"What?" The question stopped Sam in his tracks. _What? Dean? I…Oh, god, Dean. I thought I had…_

"What was hard about the question?"

"She said if you woke up…" Sam looked at the wall. _Nice wall, I wonder if it can help with this?_

"Sam? What's up?" Dean put a hand on his leg.

"Nothing, Dean, Um…Nothing." _Let's see, what's wrong? Hmm. You were dying, you were screaming, you were bleeding black blood all over the place. I gave you poison. I forced Bryn to make that poison, I think I forced her into breaking a promise or a vow. Or at least asked her to. I…_

"Sam." Dean paused for a second as pain flared on his face and in his eyes.

"Dean, what's wrong?" _What's wrong? It's still there isn't it? Oh, god, Dean. _He jumped off the bed and turned towards the door. _Bryn has to help, she has to. I can't…_

"Nothing, Sam, just a little sore. That's all, relax. You're making me nervous."

Sam sank back down on the bed. "Sorry, man, it's been a long…" _Long, long time. First in the hospital and now here. I think I might be at the end of the little rope I had left._

"Would you stop doing that?"

"What?" _What, Dean?_

"The dramatic thing. I can hear you almost saying something, then just stopping. Knock it off."

"Dean…" _I just can't get the words out, not yet, oh god, Dean how can I tell you what I did? How can I tell you how sor…_

"And don't say sorry again."

Sam ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, sor…Okay, Dean. I'll just relax."

"That's better." Dean leaned back in the bed, his eyelids starting to droop a little. "I'm okay, Sammy. I think I need a little more sleep—you go eat, take a shower or something. I'll be fine. I'm sure the stupid cat will come back to keep an eye on me." Dean smiled at him and let his eyes close. Sam waited until he was sure Dean was asleep before carefully pulling the blankets back over his brother. He tucked them in around Dean's shoulders and sat back down in the chair with a sigh. _He's going to be okay. _

**Present**

_He's going to be okay…_the contented thought was there as Sam woke. His neck was stiff and aching from lying in the chair. He sighed, sunlight was pouring in through the window. _It's always sunny here. _Consciousness crept back a little more. _My arm…The pain is gone. It still aches a little, but the pain is gone. _He felt a smile on his face. _The spell worked, that means it's going to be okay for Dean, too. _He sighed again, heartfelt.

Sam opened his eyes and glanced over at Dean. His brother was still unconscious, Sam could see Dean's muscles reacting to something—a dream, pain, something. His eyes were moving rapidly behind his eyelids. Sam pushed himself out of the chair and walked towards the kitchen and the rich smell of coffee. A sense of not quite peace, but the calm that comes with a decision made, pervaded his body._ He said he trusted me, he took the spell even though that meant giving up…I asked him to face hell for me, again, when he could have escaped. I can't let him…Not if there is a way to…_

Bryn was sitting at the table in the kitchen, a second cup of coffee was already waiting in front of the chair Sam always sat in. "Thanks," he said, sitting down.

"I think the wight may have left for awhile. I'm pretty sure it will be back. It will probably hunt you, too, now." She smiled a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Sam said, not sure an apology offered nine months after the fact meant anything. "Bryn?"

She looked at him. "Yes." It was said as a statement, not a question, with weary resignation and gentle understanding.

_Does she know what I am going to ask? How? _"What?"

"As long as it is not by his own hand, Sam, that's all, and it has to be here."

"Is there any way to escape it?" _How did she know?_

"His dying? You mean just come here and stay?" She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I can't stop the deal, Sam. He will die, he made the deal, the only thing I can offer is the escape from hell."

"Oh, I…" _What do I do now? How can I ask…?_

Bryn pushed the bottle she had sitting in front of her across the table towards him. "It takes three, maybe four days to work. Make sure you get here before then."

"What is it?"

"Do you really want to know?" She smiled the sad smile again. "It's a combination of things, herbs and a spell. He won't taste anything until it's too late, he only needs about a teaspoon to do the trick."

"It is…?" _Will he suffer?_

"It's as painless as a dose of poison can be, Sam. The sooner you get here, the more I can help ease it."

"Will I need it?" _Is he going to make it out of here?_

"I don't know, yet. I'm sorry. A lot depends on Dean, he has to let the spell work, he has to want to get better."

"I know," Sam said, weariness dragging at him again. _I know, he has to want to live and I'm not sure he does. I can't blame him I guess. But I do. I want my brother. I'm not ready to face this without him. I can't. I can still save him, and if I can't…_His hand closed around the bottle. _I can save him another way. _"Bryn, how can I…"

Dean's scream shattered the tranquility of the kitchen. Sam was up and moving towards the bedroom before his brain registered standing up. Bryn was right behind him.

_Oh my god, no. _Blackened blood was pouring from Dean's mouth, it was drenching the shirt he was wearing flowing out from the center of his chest, marring the colorful quilt. He screamed again as Sam grabbed his shoulders and held him down to the bed. Sam looked at Bryn.

"This is it," she said, laying her hand on Dean's chest.

"This is what?" Sam heard the desperate tone in his voice. _What? What's going on?_

"This is the crisis, he lives or dies in the next few minutes."

Sam held Dean down as a convulsion ripped through his body, another scream was forced from his brother's throat.

_Dean? Please, please let the spell work, please. Please, I'm not ready yet. I know I shouldn't ask, but please._

_Please, Dean._

_Please don't die._

_**To Be Continued**_


	8. Where Night's Black Bird

_A/N: Thank you everyone for taking the time to read and review! Your comments are appreciated so much and in many ways help keep me writing. Thank you to beta Abni for putting up with me. _

**Lachrimae**

**Chapter Eight**

**Where Night's Black Bird Her Sad Infamy S****ings**

Consciousness returned slowly, first it was merely the sensation of being perfectly warm, perfectly comfortable, the bed was the perfect temperature, the pillow beaten to perfect softness. Then the awareness of residual pain crept in, he was sore, his muscles over-used, there was a small ache in his chest. _I must have slept really wrong to be this stiff. _He sighed, and the scent of fresh coffee drifted into his brain. _Wow, I wonder where Sammy got coffee that smells like that? _A little more awareness answered his question. _Bryn's. We're at Bryn's. I was…I took the spell…Huh, I guess it worked. _At first elation at that thought, then a hint of sadness. _I guess hell still has a bed waiting for me. Damn. Yep, exactly. _He groaned a little without realizing it.

The hand on his tightened and he felt a warm palm placed against his forehead. _Sammy? Let go of that hand. Hear me? _He tried to tighten his hand on his brother's, he found his muscles wouldn't obey the command. "Dean?" Sam said softly.

"Here Sammy," he said, or thought he did, nothing came out. _What? I know I said something. I know I did. _

"Dean?" Sam said again.

"Sam? What's going on?" Still nothing. He tried to open his eyes, something was holding the lids closed as firmly as if they were glue. He felt the first hint of panic creep into his chest. "Sammy!" He tried for a shout, he heard a tiny groan. _What's wrong? I can't move, I can feel, but I can't move. Sam? _

"I'll be right back, Dean." The hand on his tightened in a quick squeeze, then Dean heard Sam's rapidly disappearing footsteps as his brother shouted for Bryn.

He was aware as the cat walked from where it had been settled on his feet up to his head. A cold nose came into contact with his cheek, and then a paw patted at his nose. _Go away stupid cat. _The weight shifted onto his chest as the cat rubbed its face against his. _Stupid cat. _It mewed softly at him, and the paw was patting his face as Sam came back into the room.

"Bad Pyewacket," Bryn said. _Yeah, bad cat. Tell it to go away. _"Dean?" she said gently.

"Yeah?" he said. Nothing came out. A hand was placed against his chest and then on his head.

"What's wrong?" Sam's voice held a note of extreme panic. _He sounds completely freaked. Sam what's wrong? _"I thought…"

"It's okay, Sam." Bryn's voice was gentle.

"How is it okay? What's wrong with him?" _Calm down, Sammy, it sounds like you're about to have a stroke._ "Why isn't it working like it did for me?" _What? WHAT??? Sam? What the hell are you talking about?_

"I used something different for you, Sam. The wound was different and we weren't dealing with the _onflyge _as well." _Wound? Sam? What the hell is going on? Sammy, are you okay?_

"Sammy?" A tiny groan escaped again.

"Dean? Are you awake?" Bryn asked. _Yep. Been here all along. _"I'll be right back."

"Dean? Are you there?" Sam said softly as Dean heard Bryn walk out of the room. _Yeah, Sam, I'm here. What's wrong? _"I'm okay." _You sound okay, Sammy. _"I…" Sam paused. _Sam? What? _ "I need you here, Dean. I need you back. Please." _Uh, hello? Here, Sam. _"I…Dean…" Sam stopped as Bryn came back into the room. "What's that?" Sam's voice sounded weary, tired. The anger Dean had heard before when addressing Bryn was gone. _Something happened, what? _

"It's something to let the spell work a little longer. He can't be awake yet."

"Can't?" Sam asked. _Can't? That sounds bad. _"Dean?" _Yeah, Sammy?_ "Drink it, please." _Okay, Sam. I've come this far. _The covers were straightened over his chest and Sam's hand settled on his again. _Yeah, well, we'll talk about that later, Sammy. _He was slowly losing feeling, until he sank down into a soft dark depth, silent and warm.

The hand was still on his as awareness crept back. _Sam, hey. _The light was bright against his eyelids, sunlight was warming his face. He could hear the cat purring by his ear. Dean tried to close his hand around Sam's to let him know he was there, but the muscles, once again, didn't respond. The panic flared so fast he heard the change in his own breathing as his heart started pounding. _What's wrong? Why can't I…_

"Dean?"

"Sam, I can't move, I can't…" The sound escaped his body in a small sigh.

He felt Sam's hand behind his head and he was gently lifted. Something was held against his lips. "Drink." Sam said. _Will it put me to sleep again, Sam? _"It's something to dispel the last of the spell, Dean. It will help." _Okay. _He managed to get his throat to work well enough to get the bitter liquid down. _Why does it all taste so bad? _Sam set him carefully back onto the bed.

"Sam?" he heard the whisper of his own voice that time.

His brother's hand tightened over his arm. "Hey, Dean, welcome back."

"Hey. How long?" His voice was barely audible.

"About thirty-six hours," Sam said softly. Dean heard a lot in those four words.

"You okay?" Dean said, his voice sounded a little stronger that time.

"Yeah." _Oh, yeah, Sammy, you sound everything but okay to these ears. _

"Right." Dean managed to get one eye partially open, the light blinded him and he let his eye close again. He got it open further a second later, then the other, his brother swam into focus after three blinks. "Hey," he said again as a smile lit Sam's face.

"Hey," Sam said.

Dean shifted a little in the bed, smiling a little as he realized he could. "Is this the t-shirt I was wearing?" He looked down at the quilt. "Different blanket?" He frowned. _Why would I be in a different shirt? Hmm, don't like that look on your face, Sammy. How bad was it?_

"Yeah," Sam said with a sigh.

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes coming to rest on the white bandage on Sam's arm. "What's wrong with your arm?" _I heard a bit of conversation, didn't I? About you being wounded? Sammy? What the hell happened? Not panicking, not yet, but WHAT HAPPENED??_

Sam's looked at his arm then back at Dean. "Nothing."

"Not good enough. I heard you talking, I think." Dean frowned. _I'm pretty sure I heard Bryn say…_

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam said with a weary sigh.

Something in his brother's tone set the alarm bells off in Dean's head. "Sam?" _Hey, voice is strong enough to sound a little pissed. _

"It's okay, Dean, really. The wight nicked me when I went to get the blade. Bryn fixed it."

"What?" _Sammy, no, no. _"How bad?"

"Not bad."

_You are lying to me, Sam. _"Sam?" _Still sound pissed, good. Come on, Sam, truth time._

"I'm okay, Dean. Bryn took care of it," Sam said with a gentle smile.

Dean tried to push himself up to get a better look at his brother. Sam put a hand behind his back to help him sit up and then settled another pillow behind his back. _Unfair. Hard to stay mad when you take care of me. Damn it, Sam. And I was getting ready to give you a hard time. Not really, you look terrible. _When Sam had helped him up, Dean noticed his brother's hands were shaking a little. "What happened?" He frowned a little. "Tell me, come on." _How bad were you hurt trying to save me? _

"It's no big deal," Sam said. "It caught me with the blade when I was fighting it."

"Fighting it?" _Sam? You were supposed to hop over the fence shoot it with the magical arrows and get back here._

"Yeah." Sam chuckled. "It got the drop on me, but…" The chuckled became an actual laugh.

"Not seeing much funny here," Dean said sternly. _And it sounded stern. Getting better every second. Not sleepy at all, nope._

"It's a little funny, Dean. No." Sam was still laughing. "It's a lot funny." Tears were leaking out of his eyes as he laughed.

"Sammy?" _Have you lost your mind? What happened? _

"I thought…well, for a minute I thought I was…" Sam shook his head. "And then Pyewacket tackled the wight."

"The stupid cat?" _Okay, that is a little funny. _"I knew it was a good idea sending him along."

"It was. After the cat attacked it, I grabbed the knife and ran."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Would you have taken the spell if you'd known, Dean?"

Dean took a deep breath to contradict his brother, but he let it go. He knew the truth of it. "No. Not until I was sure you were okay."

Sam nodded. "As soon as you were under, I let Bryn take care of it."

"How bad?"

"I slept through most of it," Sam said. "You aren't going to let this just drop are you?"

"Nope."

"It's not bad, Dean, really. Bryn said it won't have a scar at all. I just need to leave the bandages on for three days. Well, Bryn's been changing them, but I have to have it covered with this ointment and the bandage with the runes."

"Sam…" Dean took a deep breath, it became a yawn. "I just woke up." It sounded like a whine, even to his ears.

"Bryn said you would be in and out today, go ahead, sleep. I'll be right here."

"You need to eat."

Sam laughed softly. "Okay, I'll go eat, then I'll be back."

"Yeah…We..need…to…" Dean tried to force his eyes open, they drifted closed and stayed that way. "Talk."

"We will, later."

_Yep. Later. You're not getting out of this that easy, Sam…I…_And he was asleep before the words formed in his head.

"When can we leave?" Sam's voice woke Dean.

"Not for a few days at least, Sam." Bryn's quiet voice answered.

_Not really in any hurry to leave here. _"I…" Sam paused.

"We need to make sure you're okay, and Dean needs time to recover. It will take awhile." _What? I thought Sam was okay. Sammy? You said you were okay._

Sam sighed, Dean could hear tears at the edge of that sigh. "How bad will he be?"

"It should settle down and just leave the old scar. It will take time, but it should fade to the point where it was before the wight got involved."

"Can it interfere with your spell again?" _Good question, Sammy. With everything else I really don't need that._

"No," Bryn said quietly, there was a steel edge to her voice.

"How can you be that sure?" Sam sounded a little angry.

"I can be," Bryn said. "I won't let it hurt Dean again." Dean heard his brother's intake of breath. _That sounds like the beginnings of an explosion. _"Sam? The sun is out, why don't you and Pye take a walk in the garden? Bring in some wood. When Dean wakes up maybe he'd like to sit by the fire for awhile and I can change the linens."

"I…" Sam took another breath. "I…uh…" The cat suddenly meowed. _Well that sounds almost like a howl. Didn't know cats could do that. _"Okay, you're right. I'll be back." Dean heard Sam stand and walk out of the room. _Your steps are dragging a bit there, Sam. _

Bryn sighed. It had a note of sadness in it. "Damn," she said softly.

"Will Sam be okay?" Dean asked, opening his eyes. Bryn had tears sparkling on her cheeks. _Bryn crying is never a good thing, never. _

"Yes."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes it is, Dean. I wouldn't lie to you about Sam. The wound wasn't very deep and he let me treat it in plenty of time to make sure he would be okay. He'll be fine, no scar or anything. Although he will be more vulnerable to that kind of weapon from now on."

"We'll avoid wights," Dean said, pushing himself up. "Except the one chasing you. When we're out of here…"

"I can't have you risking yourself for me, Dean. No." Her voice was firm.

"Bryn," he said, laying his hand over hers. "You saved Sam, you saved me…"

"Even when you didn't want to be saved?"

"It's not that I didn't want to be saved." He paused when she frowned. "It's…I don't want to go to hell, Bryn. I'm terrified of that. I…" He swallowed. "And I am…" He couldn't go on. _I am terrified by the thought of…_

"You're worried about what Sam might do?"

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. _I need to talk about this. _"Yeah. I am freaked about what will happen to him when I'm gone. But that's not what scares me most. It's what he might do to get me out of this deal." He ran a hand over his face. "I…God, Bryn. I don't know what to do." He looked at her, meeting her eyes. "He hates me for it."

"He's angry about it, yes. You probably should have expected that." She laughed sadly. "Think how you would feel if the positions were reversed. But would you hate him? I don't think so. You'd be angry and desperate."

"I'd be out of my mind. Watching him every day, knowing there was a time limit on his life, I would…Oh, god." He put his head in his hands. _Oh, god, Sammy. I'm sorry. I am so sorry. All I thought was how I couldn't live without you. I didn't think, only a year and then you would be alone. I…Sam…_Dean cleared his throat.

"Dean?" Bryn said softly, her voice was sad. "I have to talk to you about…"

"What? You said Sam was okay." He looked at her.

"It's not Sam."

"Oh. Me. You can't lie to me about Sam, but you can lie to Sam, can't you?" he said with certainty, aware of the black spot in his chest.

"I'm not sure it's quite a lie, not yet. There is still a chance it could heal all the way."

Dean grinned. "Chance is good. I'll take chance. I suppose it means a spell and something nasty to drink?"

"I'll put mint in it to cover the taste." She smiled back at him.

"Cause that works." He laughed a little, then grew serious. "If we stay here, will I die?"

"At the end of your year?"

"Yeah."

"Like I told Sam, I can't stop that."

"He asked?"

"Of course he did. And Dean…"

"What?" _Why don't I think this is going to be good news?_

"If the deal takes you, I'm not sure…"

"I need to be here, and dead before the year is up, right?" _And not by my own hands, I remember that too. I wonder how I can convince Sam…Yeah, Dean, how are you going to manage that? "Sammy? Do you mind killing me?"_

"Yes," she said sadly. "I can't interfere with the deal. All I can offer is the way out of hell." She smiled sadly. "And a nice place to haunt, of course."

"If I haunt will I eventually become an angry spirit? I remember dad once told me that all ghosts become angry eventually. I don't think mom was, though. But will I…?"

"Not here."

"Part of the protection? Do you know about…I mean I guess…is it one year to the day I made the deal? Or…?"

Bryn shrugged. "It depends. Demons like the unpredictable, so I doubt it would be to the day, maybe a little before, or better yet after so you think you beat the deal."

"So, no way to plan ahead. Just freaking great." Dean smiled at her. "Bryn…"

"Hey, Dean, you're awake!" Sam said coming into the room. His cheeks were red from being out in the cold, but he had a smile on his face.

"Hey, Sam. How are you?" _Looking better, Sammy. That walk outside seemed to help. Funny, Bryn's gardens seem to have that effect on us. _

"I'm okay. I got a fire going in the living room. Want to go sit by the fire?"

_Mostly I want to lie in bed…But…_"Can I have something to eat?"

Bryn smiled. "I'll get you both some soup, how's that?"

"Thanks," Dean said, shifting his legs out from under the blankets. He pushed himself up on his feet and felt his legs start to give way. Sam caught him before he hit the floor. Dean leaned against his brother for a moment, Sam's arm tightened around his shoulder.

"Dean…" Sam said softly.

"Yeah, Sammy, me too," Dean said, resting against Sam a second longer before standing up. "I might need a hand into the living room."

"Sure." Sam half carried him into the room, a fire was burning merrily in the fireplace. Sam helped Dean to a chair that had been drawn up next to the fire. When he was settled in the chair, Sam put a quilt over him and brought a footstool over. When he noticed Dean watching him, he grinned. "Don't get used to this treatment."

Dean grinned back. "Right." The cat came in the room and after rubbing against Sam's legs hopped up on Dean's lap. "I guess you and the stupid cat worked out your differences?"

Sam dragged a chair over by the fire. "Yeah, we've been getting along fine since we fought the wight."

The cat looked over at Sam with a blink. Dean laughed. "I think he thinks he did most of the fighting."

"He did." Sam laughed along with Dean.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"It hardly hurts anymore at all." Sam looked at him. "Dean…I know it was nothing like yours, but, god…Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What it is, what it was like for you."

"I don't notice it much." _Except in bed sometimes when I can't sleep, except right after I take the spell, except…_

Sam had been watching him, his eyes met Dean's. "Right, of course not."

"Nope." _Just let it drop Sam, it's not that big a deal._

"Yeah, and I believe you."

"You should, I'm the oldest, I'm always right."

"Yeah."

Dean leaned back in the chair, stroking the cat. Bryn came in a few minutes later with food for all of them, including the cat. She put his bowl down on the flagstones. Dean looked around the room as he sipped the soup she had brought him. _The last time we were here, I was mostly in the bedroom and the garden. There are a lot of quilts in this place. Books and quilts. _

"You have a lot of quilts," Sam said, almost as if he had read Dean's mind.

"Thank you." Bryn said with a laugh. "I don't have a television and I get a little antsy sometimes. So I quilt."

"I don't know, TV sounds easier," Dean said with a laugh.

"Pyewacket enjoys sewing with me." The cat looked up with a little mew and then went back to eating.

Dean put his now empty mug down on the table beside him and listened as Sam and Bryn talked about magical illnesses and treatments. Sam seemed to be trying to pick her brain for answers to numerous questions, she answered all his questions with gentle good humor. They were discussing supernatural epidemics as Dean drifted off to sleep.

The next couple of days set the pattern. Dean would rest in bed for part of the day, Sam usually beside him reading. And then in the evening the three of them would sit by the fire, talking. By the third day, Dean was able to stay awake for several hours at a time. The sun was out and it was unseasonably warm, so after asking permission and being bundled up in an embarrassingly large amount of clothing, Sam led him out into the garden.

_It looks just the same and completely different. It was warm when we were here before, the trees had leaves and the gardens were full of flowers. _Sam led him down to the bench, a lawn chair was sitting beside it. Dean dropped into the chair with a sigh.

"Are you okay?" Sam said with concern.

"Yeah, it's just further than I thought it was," Dean said with a half smile. "Felt like a mile."

"If you get cold, let me know." Sam was hovering a little, still frowning.

"Sammy? I'm fine, sit down, you're making me nervous."

"Sorry." Sam dropped onto the bench.

"Stupid cat." The cat came and hopped onto Dean's lap, he absently stroked the cat and watched Sam's face. His brother looked haggard, exhausted in mind and body. _Sammy, we have to talk about all this. _"Sam…"

"Dean," Sam said in the same instant. Sam looked up and smiled at him.

Dean took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry." Sam's voice was in synch with his.

"Sam," Dean said gently. "I should have told you."

"What?"

"The main reason I wanted to come here."

"To die?"

"Yeah." Dean looked away from the pain in his brother's eyes. "I…Sam…" He cleared his throat, fighting the sudden lump that was there. _Oh, god, Sam. I thought I was a dead man. I…I'm sorry. _

"What?" Sam's eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"I thought I was dead. I didn't think there was anything that could be done, but I was hoping…" Dean sighed. "I was hoping that…"

"Bryn's would keep you out of hell?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, that and…" He stopped himself. _I knew…_

"Dean?"

"I knew you'd be safe here, Sammy. Nothing could hurt you, nothing could get you. Safe."

"I…" Sam scrubbed his hands across his face. "Safe?"

"Yeah, and I could haunt the place." Dean tried for a laugh, it died before it was fully formed. The tears had spilled out of Sam's eyes. "Sammy, I'm sorry."

"I am too, Dean." Sam looked at him. "I begged you to take the spell, and you could have escaped hell. My turn to be selfish, and I'm sorry for that. I…"

"Sam?"

"I can't lose you yet, Dean. I'm not ready to make it without you." Sam sighed. "I'm not really sure I will ever make it…but I know I can't now, not yet."

"I would have been around, annoying the cat."

"Not funny. Don't say it. It's not even a little funny."

_Okay, after all that, how do you ask him? _"Sammy…"

"Give me a little more time, Dean. Let me figure a way out of this for you."

"I won't have you risking your life for me. You took a big enough risk with the wight."

"Dean." Sam's voice was suddenly completely calm, quiet. _Oh, no. That is never good with Sammy, not during a discussion like this. Will I survive the explosion? Stupid cat? You might want to make a break for it while you can. _"I will do anything it takes to save you. I can and I will and you can't stop me."

"So there?"

Sam smiled a little. "Yeah, so there."

"What if you can't?" _You just said anything, Sam. Does it apply to…_

"If I can't save you?" Sam met his eyes. "Not an option, Dean. Not ever. Saving you is all there is."

"Sam…"

Sam took a deep breath, Dean watched the emotions playing on his brother's face, grief, acceptance, love. "If I can't break the deal, I'll still do everything I can to save you."

"What?" _Are you saying what I think you are saying?_

"I talked with Bryn." The tears were running down Sam's face.

"Yeah?" _I did too._

"It just can't be suicide, Dean. That's all, not by your own hand. I'll get you back here in time. She gave me…"

"Sam?" _Now that I'm faced with it, it's harder, so much harder to ask. _

"I gave you that spell, poison, nine months ago to let you rest, to end the pain. You think I could do less to save you from hell? Eternal pain? No, Dean. If I can't save your life, I will at least save your soul."

"Sammy?" Dean put his hand over his brothers.

"And you can haunt the cat." Sam laughed, it was a sobbing laugh, but he tried.

"Thank you," Dean whispered.

Sam nudged him with his knee. "Yeah." He looked across the garden. "Do you mind if I walk out to the fence? I'll be right back."

"Sure." Sam stood and walked towards the back of the garden, his shoulders were slightly slumped as if anticipating a blow. "Go with Sam," Dean said to the cat. Pyewacket jumped down and caught up with Sam. Dean watched the two of them walk to the back fence. Sam leaned on the fence and the cat hopped into the tree beside his brother. Dean sat watching for a long time before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes. The sun was warm on his face, and as he fell asleep he thought he smelled the delicate scent of a garden blossom.

**Epilogue**

"I think that's everything," Sam said, coming into the living room. Bright morning sun was pouring through the windows.

"Did you remember the box from the kitchen?" Bryn asked.

"That was the first thing I put in the car." Sam laughed. "Dean would kill me if I forgot that."

"Damn straight," Dean said. "Homemade canned fruits and jam? If he forgot that, I'd leave him on the road somewhere."

"I packed the arrows, too."

"I still don't like the idea of the two of you hunting the wight." Bryn looked from one to the other.

"You fixed it so it would be easier, right?" Dean grinned. "Spells, charms, all that mumbling in Latin?"

"I hope so. Dean, Sam…"

"No," Dean said. "We're doing this for you. How long has that thing been hunting you?" _How long? How old are you? You said once you were a little fey around the edges. I know what that means, Bryn._

Bryn smiled. "A long time, Dean."

"I thought so." She met his eyes and held them for a long moment. "When we come back, you'll have to tell me."

"I will," Bryn said softly.

"What are you two talking about?" Sam looked at them, then shrugged. "We need to get going."

"Take care, Sam." Bryn pulled him into her arms, he leaned down so his head rested against the top of hers.

"Thank you." He stood that way for another moment before he gave her a last squeeze. "I'll just check around once more." Sam disappeared down the hallway.

"You be careful, okay?" Bryn said, stepping towards Dean. "With the wight, with your brother. If you need me, call, I'll come no matter what. Even if the wight is still out there."

"I know." He pulled her into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Bryn, for everything. We'll be back before the end of the year, one way or another."

"I know."

Dean leaned into the hug. A gentle warmth suffused him as he stood there. The black spot quieting as she held him, the charm resting against it grew warm and hummed a little against his skin. _I hope Sam can save me, but there are worse places to spend eternity, I guess. I…even if Sam can't save me, even if he can't get me back in time, I hope he comes back. He's safe here. Safe. How can I leave this feeling behind again? Someday, someday I will have a place like this, safe, full of light. Safe for me, safe for Sam where we can just…_ He was still standing there when Sam came back in the room. His brother cleared his throat and Dean looked up, aware of tears on his face, he saw an answering brightness in Sam's.

"Ready?" Sam said.

Dean pulled away, Bryn brushed the tears off of his face. "Yeah." He picked up the cat. "Bye, Pye." The cat rubbed its face against his. "I still have your whisker." The cat put a gentle paw on his cheek. _Sometimes the cat freaks me out. _

Bryn and the cat walked them out to the car. She gave them each a quick hug before they got in. Sam was driving. Dean still felt unsteady after being up for a few hours and he thought it was better for Sam to drive. _Because wrecking my baby is just not a god idea. I'd have to haunt my own ass. _Dean dropped into the passenger seat and rolled down the window. "We'll call as soon as the wight is taken care of."

"Be careful," Bryn said again.

Sam started the car and pulled to the first gate. Bryn opened the gate for them and then swung it closed behind them. Dean got out and opened the second, turning to wave at Bryn as he closed it behind the car. When he got back in the car he pushed a tape in the stereo, adjusting the volume to not quite ear-bleeding levels. Dean was humming along with the album. "Just like witches at black masses," he sang softly.

"I don't think she's the type," Sam said with a laugh.

"Bryn? No, she's a Glinda."

"She is a witch."

"Took you this long to figure that out, bitch?"

"Jerk."

Dean laughed and turned the volume up a little more. "Good to be on the road again."

"Yeah," Sam said, looking over at him. "We'll be back, Dean. I promise."

"Yeah, we will." Dean smiled. "Let's go wight hunting."

"Right." Sam pushed the accelerator down and the car roared down the road. Dean turned enough to glance back at the small house in the protection of the iron fences. Bryn was still watching the car. He sighed and, with another glance at his brother, turned his attention to the road in front of them.

_Hark! You shadows that in darkness dwell,_

_Learn to condemn light_

_Happy, happy they that in hell_

_Feel not the world's despite. _

_**The End**_


End file.
